


Burning Bright

by AlElizabeth, AlexMeg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Family, Gen, Horror, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 07:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlElizabeth/pseuds/AlElizabeth, https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexMeg/pseuds/AlexMeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Season 4, Episode 22 "Lucifer Rising". Ruby escapes from the convent before Sam and Dean can kill her... but that is the least of their problems. Lucifer has risen and wants his true vessel. Now Dean and Sam are caught between the forces of good and evil once more and this time they might not win.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

St. Mary's Convent- Ilchester, Maryland

Sam shakes his head, disbelieving. He wants to deny the demon's words but he can't speak. Ruby is right. He has done this, it was all him. This is his fault. How could he have been so stupid? Why hadn't he listened to his brother?

"Why? W-why me?" Sam asks, stunned as he stares at Ruby's triumphant smile.

The demon's grin grows wider and Ruby put her fists on her hips.

"Because… because it had to be you, Sammy. It always had to be you. You saved us. You set him free. And he's gonna be grateful. He's gonna repay you in ways that you can't even imagine," Ruby exclaims, excitement clear in her tone and on her face.

Sam's attention leaves the demon briefly as he turns toward the back of the chapel as Dean pushes one of the doors open and strides inside with murder in his eyes. Sam, instead of feeling relief only feels trepidation.

Ruby stalks forward boldly.

"You're too late," She smugly informs Dean.

"I don't care," The hunter snarls and pulls out Ruby's own demon-killing knife.

Ruby gasps in surprise as Sam grabs her arms and forces them behind her back.

"This won't stop anything," Ruby laughs and Dean raises the knife to plunge it into the demon's chest.

"It'll make me feel a whole lot better," Dean sneers and drives the blade downwards.

Ruby's eyes go wide as if in shock and her mouth gapes open as thick black smoke squeezes out. The demon-killing knife clatters to the stone floor as Dean jumps back. The smoke billows up over the Winchesters' heads and shoots through the open chapel door.

The body of Ruby's vacated host nearly brings Sam to his knees, unprepared as he is for the extra weight. Sam carefully lowers the girl to the floor and although he knows he won't find one, he checks for a pulse.

Turning his attention to his brother, Sam cringes a little when he sees the expression on Dean's face.

"I'm sorry," Sam whispers, trying hard to keep his emotions under control.

"Look," Dean points to Lilith's blood. It has finished flowing and is now completely filling in the circular pattern carved into the floor. Suddenly, a bright light shoots up from the central point in the carving and the entire convent begins to shake as though with an earthquake.

Sam barely even notices when Dean runs across the small chapel towards him and shouts, "Sammy, let's go!"

Sam reaches out blindly- his gaze still locked on the harsh white light- and clutches his brother's sleeve, his face a mask of horror.

"Dean… He's coming."

Dean tugs Sam forward in panic. Sam seems frozen to the spot, his gaze locked onto the carving, the great door that was opening, "Come on!"

Sam tears himself away from the sight before him and follows his brother's pleading and pulling. They run as fast as they can toward the broken-open chapel doors.

"We're almost there!" Dean encourages moments before the doors slammed shut, trapping them.

Sam reaches out and rattles the handles. They're stuck. Both Winchesters turn toward the interior of the chapel as the light spilling forth becomes brighter.

A high-pitched noise causes both brothers to cringe. Sam shuts his eyes, trying to block out the searing light and lifts his hands to cover his ears.

Dean falls to his knees beside his brother, his eardrums feeling like they are about to explode and his eyes throbbing in their sockets.

The light engulfing the small chapel reaches the edge of the carving and the Winchesters know no more.

W

Dean opens his eyes first. He lowers his hands and sits up straighter in his seat. Staring wildly around, he realizes that they are in an airplane. He looks around at the other passengers who are either sleeping or reading or watching the in-flight show. Nobody seems to notice that he and his brother have just appeared in their seats. Dean half expects a stewardess to come over and ask if they want a complimentary baggie of peanuts.

Sam looks at his brother, just as dumbstruck as Dean.

"What the hell?" The oldest Winchester asks.

"I don't know," Sam replies in awe.

Both brothers look up as the intercom comes to life and the pilot begins speaking, "Folks, quick word from the flight deck. We're just passing over Ilchester, then Ellicott City, on our initial descent into Baltimore-"

Dean turns wide eyes to Sam, "Ilchester? Weren't we just there?"

Sam doesn't answer. He has no more idea of what happened than his brother does.

"So if you'd like to stretch your legs, now would be a good time to-" The pilot's voice cuts off suddenly as a beam of light shoots high into the night sky from the city below, right where St. Mary's stands.

"Holy crap!" The pilot exclaims, forgetting that the intercom is still on.

Sam and Dean grab each other as the plane tilts dangerously to one side and those unfortunate passengers who took the pilot's advice are thrown around the airplane.

Oxygen masks fall from the roof and Sam and Dean scramble to put theirs on, their momentary relief at being spirited away from the convent completely evaporates.

The high, keening noise that began in the chapel can be heard inside the plane. People are screaming and crying, shouting incoherently.

Dean stares out of the airplane window, his eyes terrified.

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Bobby Singer was about to go out of his mind with worry. He paced restlessly from room to room, running his hand through his thinning hair every few minutes, his gaze traveling hopefully to the door every time he heard the rumble of a car engine pass by outside. Dean hadn't reappeared from the vanishing act he'd pulled nearly twenty-four hours ago- probably the work of those damn angels- and he hadn't heard a peep from Sam the kid had bashed him in the head with his own shotgun and hightailed it to God-knows-where.

The veteran hunter couldn't help but fear the worst- that his boys had somehow gotten themselves killed- and prayed that his suspicions would amount to naught.

Bobby finally stopped trying to wear a hole into the floor and sat down at his kitchen table. He slipped his baseball cap off and rubbed at the sizeable lump at his hairline.

W

Bobby jerked awake at the sound of his front door creaking open. Hunting instincts taking over, Bobby's hand reached for the pistol he kept taped to the underside of the kitchen table.

Must have fallen asleep, Bobby chastised himself; you're getting to be an old man, Singer.

"Bobby?" Dean's familiar called out and Bobby immediately relaxed.

"In here," the veteran hunter answered, "Yer brother with you?"

Dean didn't answer but stepped into the kitchen and made straight for the refrigerator. He opened the icebox and grabbed a beer, twisted off the cap and gulped down a good half of its contents.

"Dean!" Bobby snapped at the younger man, Dean's silence not boding well.

The younger man set the beer bottle down on the counter and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, "Yeah, I found Sam."

As if on cue, the youngest Winchester peered into the kitchen. He didn't step any further than the doorway though, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket and his gaze lowered to the floor.

"C'mere ya great idjit," Bobby grumbled and Sam slowly made his way forward.

"Bobby," Sam whispered, his voice full of shame, "I'm sorry I hurt you."

The old hunter shook his grizzled head, "Wasn't yer fault, boy. Ya weren't yerself."

Sam's posture stiffened and he gritted his teeth, "But I knew what I was doing! I didn't have to hit you but I did. I could have hurt you badly or killed you!"

Bobby frowned, "It wasn't you, Sam. It was the demon blood. I don't blame ya so you stop blamin' yerself! That's an order!"

Sam's eyes were moist as he met Bobby's gaze and gave a small, sad smile.

The old hunter looked from Sam to Dean and harrumphed, "You two chuckleheads gonna tell me what happened or do I have to guess?"

Dean spoke up first, his voice laced with sarcasm, "Why don't you ask Sam about it? I'm sure he has so much more to say than I do."

Bobby's gaze shot to the older brother as Dean grabbed his beer bottle and stalked from the room, nearly colliding with his younger sibling on the way out the door.

After a moment of silence, Bobby turned his attention to the remaining Winchester.

"You feelin' alright, son?" Bobby asked, suddenly remembering that Sam had been going through demon blood-induced withdrawal the last time they had spoken.

"I'm okay, Bobby," Sam muttered but the old hunter doubted the truth of his words.

"Can I get ya anything? A beer? Coffee?" Bobby stood and began scooping coffee grounds into the machine before Sam even answered.

SPN

Sam told his old friend what had happened since he had left Singer Salvage. He didn't tell Bobby everything, he left out some parts he was too ashamed to speak of. He didn't tell Bobby about the possessed nurse he'd killed, knowing full well there had been a live person inside. Sam stared down at his hands as he spoke, imagining them splattered with the innocent blood he had shed. He couldn't even recall the poor nurse's name.

Bobby had made Sam stop and repeat himself when the young man described how killing Lilith had been the final Seal and had released Lucifer into the world.

"You gotta be pulling my leg," Bobby rubbed a hand over his ruddy beard and closed his eyes for a moment, his face going pale.

"I wish to God I was," Sam answered. He had not touched the mug of coffee the old hunter had poured for him.

"An' Ruby got away, just to add the cherry on top," Bobby grumbled mutinously.

Sam lowered his gaze at the mention of the demon's name. His stomach flip-flopped at the very thought that he had once trusted her.

Once Sam completed the tale, finishing with the description of how he and Dean had managed to slip past customs at the airport their plane had been forced to make an emergency landing at, Bobby leaned back in his chair and heaved a weary sigh.

"Balls," the old hunter muttered and his gaze traveled to the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered and curled his hands into fists.

"Well, I guess we're gonna have to deal with this as soon as possible. We can sleep on this tonight and start researchin' bright and early to-" Bobby began to voice his thoughts out loud to the young man but he stopped when Sam gagged and twisted into a standing position, his chair clattering to the linoleum floor.

Sam's gut rebelled against him and the young man lurched the short distance to the kitchen sink, head hanging down miserably as he retched. He felt Bobby's hand on his back and wished that it was Dean's instead.

"Easy does it," Bobby murmured as Sam heaved, "Yer okay. Just get it all out."

When Sam's stomach had calmed down he lifted his head, blinking away tears that had welled up in his eyes and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Bobby placed a rough, calloused hand on Sam's brow and shook his head, "You've got no fever… must 'a just been nerves."

Sam gulped down the bitter taste in his mouth.

"Are yer bags inside?" Bobby asked and Sam nodded.

"Dean brought them in."

"Right. Y'all go on upstairs and get some sleep," Bobby instructed, "You've had a stressful couple of days."

"Thanks, Bobby," Sam said gratefully and slowly walked out of the kitchen. He entered the den but didn't see his brother.

"Did Dean leave?" Sam asked fearfully. He didn't know what he'd do if his brother had abandoned him but really, Sam didn't think he'd blame Dean if he did.

"Nah, he's outside most like," Bobby answered gruffly, "Sitting on the hood of that car of his and drowning his sorrows in beer."

Sam went to the front window and pulled aside the dusty curtain. He couldn't see very far into the salvage yard but he felt sure Dean was out there somewhere, perhaps watching the stars orbit silently and slowly and coldly.

"You get on upstairs before I have to drag you to bed myself," Bobby threatened but smiled. He was just so glad to have both boys back in one peace, regardless of what had transpired during the past few days.

Sam grabbed his duffle bag from where Dean had deposited it in the front hall and wearily climbed the stairs. His body was aching, begging for sleep but he was sure that he wouldn't get any that night. His mind was full of what ifs and what nows and memories of the past couple of days that Sam would rather forget. He felt full of guilt, stuffed with it and it seemed that if he fucked up one more thing he would explode.

Sam dropped his duffle outside the bathroom door and grabbed his toiletry kit so he could at least brush his teeth before lying awake for the remainder of the night. He didn't look at his reflection in the mirror as he ran his toothbrush over his teeth and tongue, afraid that if he did, he'd see someone he didn't recognize instead of himself.

Sam spat toothpaste into the basin and wiped his mouth with the palm of his (bloodstained) hand, squeezed his eyes closed and told himself he was imagining things because he was exhausted.

Lines from Shakespeare's Macbeth entered Sam's mind unbidden and he found himself reciting them under his breath, "Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red."

Sadly, Sam opened his eyes, put his toothbrush away and grabbed his duffle bag. As he passed the landing, he could hear the muffled voices of his brother and Bobby downstairs but Sam was too tired to listen in to conversation. Sam's legs carried him into the guest bedroom and he dropped his duffle, lying down on his bed without changing his clothes. Out of habit he turned toward the empty bed on the other side of the room to wait and see if Dean would come upstairs.


	2. Chapter Two

Dean strode into the house, his fast pace leading him to the kitchen. He made a bee-line to the liquor cabinet—the cupboards above the stove—and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels, not bothering to take a glass out as well. Dean just drank straight from the bottle without taking a breath until it was more than half empty.

"Kid?"

Dean turned around to see Bobby standing in the doorway, staring at him questioningly. He stared back at the older through drunken eyes, blinking as the whole room spun around him (or maybe he was the one who was spinning) making it difficult to focus on the figure in front of him. "Bobby?"

"Yeah." Bobby answered, walking inside the kitchen. He suddenly noticed Dean swaying on his feet and he strode over to him and grabbed his elbow to steady the young man. "Think ya should sit down." Bobby advised gently, leading Dean to a chair and pushed lightly on his shoulder to sit him down, then walked over to grab a cool beer for himself from the fridge. Bobby took a chair for himself and sat across his surrogate son.

A tense silence surrounded them, filling the whole room.

That is, until it was broken when Bobby sighed sadly, exasperation clear on his face.

"So—how ya doing?" Bobby asked softly, even though he was aware that it was a stupid question, and the answer was obvious.

"What'd y'think, Bobby?" He said sarcastically, voice embarrassingly slurring a bit. "M'brother just chose a demon bitch over me, killed Lilith, one of the mos' powerful demons, with barely a blin' of a eye, brought an end to this world and released Satan. M'completely fine." He smiled mirthlessly.

Bobby exhaled heavily, "Don't be so hard on the kid boy. It ain't entirely his fault, ya know."

"What d'you mean?" Dean asked accusingly, raising his eyebrows as his jumbled head took it the wrong way. Was Bobby blaming him for all this?

"He was played by a demon, same way ya got fooled by the angels." Bobby explained.

"She was a demon! It should've been pretty damn obvious!" Dean slammed his fist not holding the bottle of Jack, on the table in anger, making it rattle slightly.

Bobby didn't even so much as flinch. "A demon that saved his life, Dean. The kid was alone for four months, without you, and he was desperate, the perfect time for that bitch to play on his emotions."

"He could've turned to you too rather than her!"

Bobby stared at him patiently, calm as the clouds in the sky. "He slipped into a deep depression those first days—like you when Sam died—an' nothing I told 'im would change that," He said, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table, staring intensely into Dean's emerald green eyes. "You only had to live with your brother dead for a few days—but Sam had to live without ya for four months, Dean."

Three heartbeats.

1

2

3

"That doesn't change anything. He trusted a demon Bobby and demons should never be trusted! The same monsters that destroyed our whole family damn it!" Dean yelled angrily, standing up abruptly as he punched on the table again.

Now Bobby's patience was wearing thin as he stood up, sending the chair toppling over a bit before it stood straight again, his own face etched into a snarl. "Why don't ya try to freakin' understand just what yer brother went through in those months?" He growled lowly through his gritted teeth, rage creeping into his voice. "They were hell for him! The stupid moron blamed 'imself, he thought it was his fault that you were being tortured in Hell! That guilt, pain and grief was eating away at Sam from the inside!"

Dean stood silently as his own face twisted into a snarl, before turning away from Bobby. "I'm gonna go upstairs and get some shut-eye. M'exhausted and I'm really not in the mood for any of this." He said flatly, effectively breaking the conversation as he walked away from the old hunter.

SPN

Sam was exhausted, fatigue draining the energy from his body but no matter how much he tired, he couldn't sleep. All the events of the past few days prevented him from doing so. He had just started the end of the world, had just hurt the one person who stood by him no matter what, had lost his trust. He knew Dean was angry—no—pissed at him, probably even hated him considering that voicemail.

God, that voicemail.

Sam swallowed convulsively against the lump in his throat, and reached into his jean's pocket for his cell phone. He hadn't deleted the message; instead he had saved it as a reminder of his place in Dean's life now. They would never be the same brothers that they once were ever again. Hell, they would never be brothers again, period. And he was the one who screwed that up too.

Sam felt his eyes sting, and he bit his lip and closed his eyes, before opening them again and reached out to put the phone on the nightstand beside his bed.

But before he could, the door swung open, interrupting Sam. He looked over and saw Dean standing in the doorway. His brother met his eyes, but Sam couldn't read them. Dean had always done a good job at hiding his emotions, but when Sam looked into his eyes, he could read them clearly no matter how much his brother tried to cover them. Now, either Dean's gotten better at hiding his feelings or Sam had suddenly gotten worse at reading him.

Dean broke the eye-contact and sat his duffle bag down on his bed, grabbed some clean clothes and left the bedroom. Sam heard the bathroom door close down the hall and the shower turn on, minutes later.

From the expression on Dean's face, Sam's brother had made it clear that they could never go back to what they once were, that Sam could never make things right after everything he had done, but Sam decided he'd be damned if he'd just sit back with his thumb up his ass and not do something about it, and not even try to fix things between them.

So he sighed softly, and lifted himself up on the bed with his elbows, sitting against the headboard as he waited for Dean to come out.

They were going to have a little talk.

SPN

Dean emerged with his night clothes on, steam wafting out of the bathroom. He moved slowly down the hall, not wanting to have to see the expression on his younger brother's face again. Sam had looked up at him with that damn kicked puppy expression and instead of melting Dean's heart as it usually did; it only made him even angrier. Entering the bedroom he shared with Sam, Dean cast his gaze over to his brother and noticed Sam was still awake, sitting against the headboard with his shoulders hunched as he stared off into space. Dean purposefully ignored his brother and proceeded to rub his hair with his towel as though he were the only one in the room. Sam looked up and immediately sat upright, scooting over to the end of the bed. "Dean."

Dean only ignored him. Sam received no response.

And it was in that moment that Sam wanted Dean to say something, do something. Snap at him, yell at him, or hit him, just — anything.

Because the silence hurt worse than anything that had ever happened to Sam.

"Dean, I just wanna talk, alright?" Sam tried again, his wide eyes and his tone pleading, "Please."

"I don't," Dean growled, not even bothering to hide the anger in his words.

Sam reached out a hand for his brother's shoulder. "Look, I know I hurt you but just listen to me for a seco—"

"I don't wanna fucking talk!" Dean snapped angrily, whirling around to face Sam an pushed his hand away.

Sam tried not to feel hurt by the fact that Dean didn't even want him to touch him. I guess I lost that right too, he thought sorrowfully to himself.

Sam slowly pulled his hand back, exhaling heavily. "Just give me a chance to explain Dean, please," He begged softly.

"I don't want an explanation either," Dean pushed past him to his bed.

"Damn it Dean! Just fucking listen to me for once!" Sam exploded in frustration, losing his calm.

"I don't need to listen to anything you have to say," Dean growled angrily, trying his best to keep his own rage in check.

Sam closed his eyes, breathed deeply for a moment, before opening them again, his expression tense but calm once again. "Dean," Sam started, reaching for his brother's shoulder once again.

But this time Dean didn't just push Sam's hand away, this time Sam was met with a fist to his jaw.

Sam startled from the blow, hand automatically shooting up to his face. He flexed his jaw to make sure it wasn't dislocated, pressing the back of his hand against his now bleeding lip.

"Dean—"

"I told you Sam that I didn't wanna talk!" Dean bellowed angrily, his voice lowering down to a growl. "But you didn't listen."

"Why aren't you listening to me?" Sam asked pleadingly.

"Because there's nothing you can say that will ever make this right!" Dean shouted furiously, standing right in his brother's personal space as he glared intensely into his green eyes, and for once they had no effect on him, too blinded by rage to care. His hands shot up to grab Sam's collar, pulled him from the edge of the bed and he slammed his silent brother to the wall. "This was all you, Sam. You started Armageddon! Brought the Devil on Earth! You betrayed me! And it was all you! Nobody forced you! Nobody pointed a gun to your head!" He released his brother's collar as he pulled himself away, the younger Winchester's head hitting on the wall behind him.

"It was all you." Dean whispered wearily, suddenly sounding and looking haggard and old from all the stress and weight on his shoulders as he turned away and bit his lip, wiping a hand roughly down his face.

Sam's lower lip trembled slightly, suddenly looking like the innocent nine-year-old kid Dean took care of when he scraped his knee on the sharp gravel as they walked through the woods to hunt down a black dog. "M'sorry, Dean." Sam whispered softly, voice thick with emotion.

"Yeah, whatever," Dean muttered as he climbed into his bed and lay down, covering himself with the quilt. He turned off the lamps without even waiting for Sam to get into his own bed.

Seconds later, sleep took Dean away into the dark. No dreams, just pure blackness.

Sam swallowed and bit his lip, stubbornly refusing to let the unshed tears flow down. He ducked his head down, letting his bangs cover his eyes as he dragged his feet towards his bed, as if carrying a heavy but invisible burden on his shoulders- which he might be- and climbed into his own bed, gazing at Dean's back. Usually, Dean would sleep on his stomach, face turned towards him. But not tonight.

"Good night Dean," He said softly into the dark room, not exactly expecting an answer.

But still hoping.

SPN

The next morning Sam woke up feeling like he was alone in the room. He glanced at the other bed- empty. He could hear muffled voices from downstairs, but he couldn't understand a word. He stared unseeingly at the ceiling for a while, just—staring, as if he's not sure what to do next, if he should get up or not.

As if he was trying to figure out if he should continue or not.

In the end, Sam ignored that feeling. He pushed himself up, planting his feet in the carpet as he stood upright, stretching his spine, and shuffled over to his duffel bag and picked out some clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.

He went on fighting, because he was a Winchester.

W

Sam padded downstairs to the library where he could hear Bobby and Dean's voices, probably researching and discussing on how to stop the Apocalypse.

The Apocalypse he started; the mess he made. And they were the one cleaning it up.

Sam stopped in the doorway, standing awkwardly as he glanced at Dean. Their last conversation hadn't been very civilized and Sam was worried Dean would be pissed at him about it.

Their eyes met for a second, and Sam was the first one to look away.

The boys' behavior didn't go unnoticed by Bobby as he watched them.

But before the older hunter could so much as open his mouth, one of his many phones rang. He answered it and greeted with a grumpy "Singer here."

"Rufus, what the hell? Where are ya? River Pass, Colorado? What's going on?" Bobby paused, listening as his friend spoke, the grizzled hunter's face losing its colour as Rufus explained the situation. "I'll get there as soon as possible. Okay. You just keep yer shirt on." Bobby hung up the phone, his eyes turning on both of the brothers.

"Everything alright, Bobby?" Sam spoke up first.

"There's a horde of demons in River Pass and we need to move fast if we're gonna save the townsfolk."

"No Bobby, you stay here and focus on finding out how to stop Lucifer. Sam and I will go," Dean suggested immediately, surprising both his brother and Bobby.

"But—" Bobby argued. Rufus hadn't specified exactly how many demons they were looking at but it would be foolish to let the boys take this on alone, especially after their heated argument the night before. Bobby had tried not to overhear Sam and Dean- mostly Dean- yelling at each other after the oldest Winchester had decided to call it a night. After losing his boys and not knowing if they were alright only days ago, Bobby wasn't too keen on letting them out of his sight.

Dean insisted, however, "We got this Bobby."

Silence ensued before the old hunter sighed in defeat, nodding. "Alright then. Just don' do anything foolish. Come back in one piece, ya idjits."


	3. Chapter Three

Dean's knuckles were white where he gripped the Impala's steering wheel. He had the radio turned up far too loud and Iron Maiden's 'Number of the Beast' blared from the speakers.

Sam wisely kept his mouth shut and his gaze averted, staring out the passenger window so as not to accidently meet his brother's eyes.

It would be a long drive to River Pass- nearly twelve hours- and it was already looking to be a somber ride. The anger in the car was so thick Sam could probably cut it with a knife.

Sam sighed and propped his chin on the heel of his hand, watching the scenery whip by.

He wished Dean would talk to him. He wished Dean would give him a chance to explain himself instead of jumping to conclusions and picking a fight.

Maybe if I give him a little time to think things over, cool down; Sam thought sullenly, Dean will talk to me. I hope.

Sam was really under no illusion that Dean would ever be alright with what he'd done and Sam understood that… he wasn't okay with his own actions either but he needed to know that his brother didn't hate him.

Sam's eyes watered as he recalled his brother's voicemail message- the disgust and rage in Dean's voice as he called Sam a freak and a vampire and a monster.

Did Dean really think that?

Sam gulped, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat.

Sam told himself that if Dean truly felt that way about him, then why didn't he opt to take Bobby on this hunt and tell him to stay at the salvage yard and research a way out of the mess he'd made?

No, no matter how much Sam fucked up, Dean still cared about him because whatever happened, they were still brothers and that had to count for something, didn't it?

SPN

The prairie wind howled restlessly against the old farmhouse but its occupants barely even noticed.

All eyes were on the man sitting at the kitchen table. He appeared to be a little younger than middle-age, with dark blond hair and startlingly blue eyes.

The man didn't appear to notice he had an audience as he rolled a quarter across the knuckles of one hand over and over.

"Father," one of the women spoke up and the man shut his hand around the quarter, only to reveal an empty palm once he opened his hand again, "Are we not going to start?"

The man raised his blue eyes to meet the woman's dark ones. He shifted in his seat, rolled his shoulders as though uncomfortable and spoke in a surprisingly soft voice, "I am not wearing the proper attire. One must always dress appropriately; don't you think so, Meg?"

The woman looked confused for a moment before the man spoke again.

"I require my vessel," he almost whispered and stood. Meg took an unconscious step backwards.

Lucifer noticed the demon's movement and strode forward, placing two fingers under the woman's chin and lifting it, "There is no need for you to fear me, child."

Meg's expression filled with adoration and she smiled.

"I thought you already had your vessel," one of the male demons, Tybalt, asked and was met with an icy glare.

"I was compromised," the man said, his voice still soft, "And forced to procure a substitute instead of my true vessel."

Tybalt, realizing that he was perhaps treading on thin ice, lowered his gaze and shuffled to the back of the group.

Meg smirked and brushed her host's black, curly hair over one shoulder. Tybalt wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer but he was loyal to Lucifer and that's what had landed him a position here.

"What can we do?" Meg asked, her tone simpering as she turned her attention back to the archangel.

Lucifer put a finger to his lips, "Bring my vessel to me."

All the demons leaned forward eagerly. Every one of them wanted the chance to show their father that they were the most loyal and obedient.

"Who is it?" the second female demon asked. Her host had long, bright pink hair, brown eyes accented with copious amounts of makeup, a diamond stud in her nose and numerous studs in her ears. She wore the green kilt and white blouse of a school uniform.

Lucifer smiled, "Sam Winchester."

Meg couldn't help the look of surprise that crossed her face at the mention of that name. She glanced at Ruby from the corner of her eye and saw that the other demon looked equally astonished.

"I trust you have heard of him?" the archangel asked with a crooked smile.

Ruby's eyebrows knitted together; she had not seen this coming. Sure, Sam was supposed to be the one to set Lucifer free but not even Lilith had confided this tidbit of information to her. Ruby wondered if Lilith had even known that Sam was meant to be Lucifer's true vessel.

Meg grinned hungrily. She couldn't wait to see the look on Sam Winchester's face when he found out what he was in for! Ever since Sam and his brother had sent her back to Hell, Meg had been dying to get some payback. She supposed that this was as good as anything. Humans were always whining about Freewill and wouldn't it just be the ultimate kick in the teeth for little Sammy to become the puppet of thefather of demons.

"Ruby, you know the Winchesters better than any other demon," Lucifer began speaking again, his soft-spoken voice demanding attention, "I trust no one else to perform this task."

"Yes, Father," the demon ducked her head, demurely.

"Make sure you leave Sam Winchester unscathed," Lucifer continued, seriously, "Or I will be very displeased."

Ruby nodded. Meg folded her arms over her chest, "And what about Dean?"

The archangel paused for a moment as though thinking, "See that he does not follow you."

SPN

"Damn it!" Dean cursed out loud as he tried to contact Rufus using the number Bobby had given him.

After such a long silence, Sam felt the need to speak, regardless of what his brother thought of him.

"He'll get through this, Dean," Sam didn't look at his brother as he spoke, "Rufus is an excellent hunter, he knows his stuff."

Dean sighed and looked once more at his cell phone before putting it back in his pocket, "Bobby said there was a horde of demons attacking River Pass, Sam. A horde… how many is that exactly? Ten? Fifty? A hundred?"

Sam shook his head and didn't answer. All he could do was hope Rufus was able to hold his own until they arrived.

SPN

Meg stared dubiously at the map of the United States that Ruby had laid out on the kitchen table.

"What? I still remember some witchcraft," the pink-haired demon explained.

Meg scowled and crossed her arms, "Whatever, sister."

Ruby glared, "I don't see you pointing us in Sam's location. Let me do this!"

Meg twirled a strand of hair around one of her fingers but said nothing more.

Ruby continued preparing the spell- it was not dissimilar from the one she had used to find Dean Winchester when the angels had kidnapped him so he could interrogate Alistair.

"Why can't Lucifer see where the Winchesters are? One of them is his vessel," Meg complained to her fellow demon. She peered over her shoulder nervously though, as if their father might materialize behind her just because she had spoken his name.

"I don't think he's strong enough right now," Ruby commented without looking up from the herbs she was crushing with a pestle and mortar, "He only just escaped Hell a few hours ago and he isn't in his true vessel."

Meg nodded, she could emphasize. Powerful demons like Azazel or Alistair or Lilith often didn't experience the same 'jet-lag' as their weaker counterparts but a lower-level demon usually wasn't at their full strength when they first went Topside, hence the quick search for a host, because that would give them a little time to recuperate and gather their bearings. Meg could understand why Lucifer wasn't feeling up to par. While the Devil wasn't a demon, he also had not set foot on Earth in millennia.

"I think he just wants to see what you can do," Meg said.

Ruby smirked and Meg sighed, "Just finish the spell so we can get Sam."

The pink-haired demon lowered her head as though concentrating on her work. She bit her lip and wondered what would happen to Sam once they had brought him here.

Finishing up the spell, Ruby and Meg held their breath as they waited for the result. A small hole burned through the paper of the map directly below the words Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

"Shit," Meg swore and grabbed the map.

"What?" Ruby asked, trying to rip the paper from Meg's hands.

"They're with that old man," Meg muttered, "And that means that there will be a full arsenal of anti-demon traps surrounding them."

Ruby flicked her pink-dyed hair behind her shoulder, "Don't look at me. I never followed Sam that far."

Meg crumpled up the map and tossed it across the kitchen, "No, you just decided to become fuck-buddies with him instead."

Ruby bristled visibly, her eyes turning pitch black, "At least I didn't let them exorcise me! That was a rookie mistake!"

"Oh yes, that was all part of my plan!" Meg snarled sarcastically before her own eyes took on a dark tint, "If that geezer hadn't interfered I would have killed them all!"

"You're such a fucking waste of space! You're useless! If you'd killed the Winchesters, where would we be now? Huh? Idiot!" Ruby hissed and advanced on the other demon.

"Slut!" Meg accused.

"Ladies," the soft voice stopped both demons in their tracks, causing the pair of them to stare, shocked, at the owner of the voice.

"That is not very polite," Lucifer admonished. Meg and Ruby both stared at the linoleum floor as if they found it fascinating.

"Do you know where the Winchesters are?" the archangel asked and Ruby looked up, sheepishly.

"South Dakota," she answered meekly, "But they are protected from us."

Lucifer lifted an eyebrow, "Than we must draw them out."


	4. Chapter Four

Twelve hours later Sam and Dean arrived in downtown River Pass, Colorado. It was dark outside- late evening- and both Winchesters could immediately see that something was not right.

The streets were eerily deserted.

Both Winchesters were on high-alert for any sudden movement or sound.

"Dean! Look out!" Sam reached out and grabbed his brother's arm as a girl appeared in front of the Impala.

Tires screeching, Dean slammed on the brakes just before the car could hit the young woman.

Sam let go of his brother before Dean could pull his arm out of his grasp and unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Stay in the car, Sam," Dean instructed and started getting out of the vehicle himself.

"But she might be hurt," Sam suggested. The girl was standing only inches from the bumper, her face blank and her eyes wide. Her pink hair fluttered off her shoulders in the wind.

Dean reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pistol, checking to see it was loaded, he slid it into the waistband of his jeans at the back.

"Sam, if you get out of the car so help me God…" Dean didn't finish the sentence and his brother nodded, having no intention of obeying his brother if things started going downhill.

"Dean!" Sam called his brother's name but Dean ignored him.

"Hey, are you okay Miss?" Dean asked as he approached the young girl.

"Oh yes, I'm fine. Now," the pink-haired high schooler smiled and her eyes turned pitch black.

Dean wasn't fast enough to grab his gun and the demon flung him into the air. He crashed over the Impala's roof and onto the asphalt.

"DEAN!" Sam shouted and shoved his door open. Ignoring the threat, he ran to the back of the car.

Dean was pulling himself up, one hand on the trunk of the Impala, the other at the small of his back.

"Get the trunk open," Dean muttered and fished his keys out of his pocket.

Sam reached toward his brother's outstretched hand when the sound of footsteps alerted him to the girl's approach.

"Hi Sam," the pink-haired demon smiled and Sam paled visibly.

"What did you do? Where is everyone? Where's Rufus?" Dean growled at the demon, pointing his gun at her face.

"We didn't do anything to this town, Dean-o," a new voice spoke and both Winchesters turned to look at the dark-haired woman who appeared. She wore knee-high leather boots, skinny jeans, a dark blue shirt and a black vest.

Dean, the only one with a weapon, was unsure of which demon to aim at.

"This town used to have a lumber and saw mill but the factory closed down and when everyone lost their jobs, they all moved away," the dark-haired demon explained, "So you can blame all this on the Recession, not us."

The demon spread her arms out wide to indicate the whole town.

"So there was no demon horde? Was Rufus even here?" Dean asked and the pink-haired demon shook her head.

"What the hell do you want with us?" Dean demanded, worried for his brother and if the demons had any plans for him.

"Oh, don't be so naïve," the dark-haired demon said, "Sorry, but not everything is about you, Dean."

"Sam," Dean lowered his voice so that only his brother would be able to hear, "Run. Get out of here."

"I'm not leaving you," Sam whispered steadfastly.

"They want you! Get away," Dean argued, "I can handle it."

"That's not nice, you know," the pink-haired demon chimed in, "Why don't you share with the rest of the class?"

"Fuck you!" Dean snarled and squeezed a shot off, catching the dark-haired demon in the abdomen.

Ignoring the second demon, both Winchesters took off running down the quiet street. Sam, with his longer legs, outpaced his brother easily. Realizing this, Sam looked over his shoulder and slowed his stride.

"Run Sam!" Dean shouted, losing ground as he fought to keep up with his sibling.

Sam glanced at the boarded up shops along the stretch of road and jogged to a storefront that wasn't covered with plywood.

Shattering one of the glass panels in the door, Sam reached in and unlocked it, ignoring of the sharp shards cutting his arm.

"Dean, in here," Sam called to his brother as he approached.

Once both were inside, Sam looked around frantically for something to barricade the door.

"Maybe there's salt in here," Dean muttered under his breath as Sam kept watch at the door.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam said softly, causing his brother to look up at him.

"For what?" Dean grunted.

"For getting you into this mess," Sam answered, "it's my fault."

Dean didn't reply. Sam's shoulders slumped.

"Why didn't you run when I told you?" Dean asked.

"I wasn't going to leave you, Dean!" Sam exclaimed.

"Ah, so this is where you're hiding!" a feminine voice caused Dean to curse out loud.

The two demons appeared and walked toward the shop front at a leisurely pace.

The pink-haired demon opened the door and stepped through first. She raised one hand and Dean gave a grunt of pain as he hit the wall.

"Dean!" Sam cried out and tried to run to his brother but found he could not move. The second demon had her eyes fixed on him, trapping him where he stood.

"Don't hurt him!" Sam stared wide-eyed at the two women.

The pink-haired demon smiled, "You tried to kill me. I'm just returning the favour."

"R-Ruby?" Sam gasped at the uniform-clad girl.

"What am I? Chopped liver?" the dark-haired demon asked; one hand on her cocked hip.

Sam could have cared less who the second demon was- all he cared about was his brother and how the hell he would get them both out of this alive.

"Oh c'mon Sam," the demon said in an exasperated voice, "we were so close once. Don't you remember?"

It took moments for Sam to connect the dots, "Meg… it's you… but I thought you were in Hell."

"I had some extra vacation days I needed to use or lose," Meg smirked and nodded to Ruby.

Sam stared, trapped, as Ruby stepped up to his brother.

"Dean! No! Get away from him!" Sam shouted at the demon.

The pink-haired demon smiled innocently at the eldest Winchester, "Do you like my new meatsuit?"

Dean glared at the demon, "Go to Hell, bitch."

"After you," Ruby grinned and flicked out her hand.

Dean's neck shattered audibly, his limp body falling to the floor in a crumpled heap.

"NO!" Sam cried out and fought against the invisible force holding him.

With a smirk, Meg released her power from Sam and watched as he stumbled forward, dropping to his knees before his brother's body.

"D-Dean," Sam choked back the tears that threatened to flood his eyes and he gently lifted his older brother's head. Dean's eyes were open and empty, "I'm so sorry. God, I'm so s-sorry for e-everything!"

Sam lifted his brother and hugged him to his chest. The tears finally came and Sam sobbed openly.

Ruby crossed her arms over her chest and looked over her shoulder at Meg, "As entertaining as this is to watch, we're somewhat on a schedule."

Meg sighed, "You're such a party-pooper."

Ruby shook her head and approached the grieving Winchester.

"Sam," she intoned in a sultry voice and was slightly surprised when the young man actually looked up.

Ruby bent down and brushed Sam's hair back from his brow. Sam had tears trailing down his face and he clutched Dean's body even tighter against him.

Leaning over even farther, Ruby whispered in the young man's ear, "I'm sorry."

Ruby kissed Sam's temple.

SPN

Bobby hadn't heard anything from the Winchesters and he was growing anxious. Surely Dean would have called to say they'd arrived?

Bobby hated being left behind, only able to wait for news to come meet the boys… or not.

Determined to do something except peer out the front window into the yard every ten minutes, Bobby went to his bank of phones in the kitchen and dialed Rufus's number again. He had been trying to contact his friend ever since the Winchesters had left but without any success.

The phone rang twice before his friend picked up.

"About time you answered," Bobby growled.

"I didn't know I was supposed to sit by the phone!" Rufus replied.

"You don't answer your damned phone for hours, Rufus, I expect you to be dead!" Bobby chastised, surprised by the fellow hunter's calm tone.

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Rufus grated back.

"Listen, just hold tight a little while longer – Sam and Dean should be at River Pass soon," Bobby assured his friend.

"The Winchesters? Rufus asked, "Why you sending them my way? Damn Bobby, you must really be worried about me."

Bobby didn't speak for a moment. Had Rufus forgotten that he was sending reinforcements to help with the demons?

"Bobby? You still there?" Rufus' voice brought the grizzled hunter from his thoughts, "Did you say River Pass? You must be going senile! I ain't in River Pass, I'm up at Boulder."

Bobby's eyes widened, "So you didn't call me about a slew of demons terrorizing River Pass, Colorado?"

Bobby could almost hear Rufus' eyebrows raise, "What on Earth are you talking about? I never called you- I wasn't about to ruin the nice day I was having!"

As Bobby listened to Rufus, his heart rate began to speed up and fear settled in his belly.

"Do me a favour, will ya?" Call Dean's cell phone an' let me know if he answers."

Bobby hung up the phone and waited for Rufus to call him back.

"Went straight to voicemail, Bobby," Rufus returned when he got in contact with his friend again.

"Balls," Bobby swore and ran a hand over his beard.

"If you want, I can drive down to River Pass myself and check it out. Should only take a couple of hours."

Bobby refused his friend's offer and ended the call. Taking a deep breath, Bobby gathered his thoughts. Walking into the living room, he stared out the window, pulling off his baseball cap.

"You know I ain't much of a praying man, not since Karen passed… but sometimes things are outta my hands and I just gotta swallow my pride and ask for help. If you're listening, like Sam thinks you are- well, I need ya to get my boys through this in one piece. I don't know if it was you who got those boys onto that plane but if it was, can you do this one last thing?"

The house was silent when Bobby finished. He ran a hand through his hair and put his cap back on.

Turning to head into the kitchen, the old hunter jumped as he nearly collided with Castiel.

"What're you doing here?" Bobby exclaimed, surprised that the angel had decided to make an appearance.

"I heard you," Cas answered simply.

"Wasn't for you," Bobby grunted, trying to restore at least some dignity.

The trench-coat clad angel surveyed the living room, head cocked to one side, "Where are Sam and Dean?"

"They went to River Pass-" Bobby began but the angel had vanished, leaving him alone again.

SPN

Dean sat up with a gasp, his neck stiff but no longer broken. Glancing around, he immediately sought out his brother.

"Sammy!" Dean called out and startled when a pair of grey trouser-clad legs and shiny black dress shoes appeared in his line of sight.

Looking up, Dean narrowed his eyes at the owner of those legs, "Zachariah, where is my brother?!"

The angel smirked, "Haven't the foggiest."

"Liar," Dean snarled at the angel, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Zachariah rolled his eyes, "I'm here because it is time to do your job, Dean."

"My job? What the fuck are you talking about? I'm not doing anything for you assholes," Dean snapped.

Zachariah raised an eyebrow, "Don't you recall how you pledged your obedience to us? Or has that slipped your pint-sized brain?"

"You screwed us over!" Dean snarled, "I'd have to be crazy to do anything for you chuckleheads!"

The angel scowled, "Okay Dean, playtime's over. You're going to do what I say and just maybe I'll tell you where your precious little brother is."

Dean pulled himself up so that he was standing, he trusted Zachariah as far as he could throw him. Dean didn't forget that Meg and Ruby had attacked them before Zach had resurrected him.

"How about no, you narcissistic son of a bitch!" Dean snapped, mind working overtime to find a way out of this situation.

Zachariah glowered, "Big things are happening, Dean. Things you can't escape."

"I don't want to be involved," Dean argued, "You dicks got what you wanted: you started the Apocalypse-"

"Oh no, Dean, we didn't start the Apocalypse, you did," Zachariah interrupted, "Or should we say, Sammy did."

Dean opened his mouth to retort but then closed it.

"What big things are you talking about?" Dean asked instead, his curiosity piqued.

Zachariah smiled, "The Four Horsemen, oceans of blood, flaming hailstones, the whole nine yards."

Dean's eyes shot open in shock. The angel smiled even wider.

"Why can't you guys just stop it? You are angels after all?" Dean asked, no longer yelling but his tone didn't lose its heat.

"We can't do anything because it was always supposed to be you, Dean," Zachariah said, "That's what I've been trying to get through your thick skull since we first met."

Dean gritted his teeth, "You just don't want to do anything!"

Zachariah scoffed, "No, what we want is for you to close your cake-hole and do as you're told."

Dean tried to sidle across the wall and out from under Zachariah's glare.

"Not so fast, Dean," the angel reached out grabbed the young hunter's shoulder.

"Get your hands off me!" Dean snarled, shoving Zachariah's chubby hand away.

"Those demons who took your brother killed you quickly," Zachariah whispered, "But unlike me, they granted you a kindness."

Dean cursed under his breath and closed his eyes for a moment. He wished he could just get the hell out of this shop, this town, this state and find his brother.

When he opened his eyes again, Dean was disappointed to see Zachariah was still towering over him.

"What do you want me to do?!" Dean asked, rhetorically, "You wanted me to kill Lilith and I didn't do that and now you want me to, what, stop the Apocalypse?"

Zach shook his head, "Not stop the Apocalypse, no. But you can stop the Devil."

Dean blinked, "I can stop… the Devil?"

The angel nodded, "Oh yes, you actually have a very important part in this, Dean."

Dean's expression turned suspicious. He knew they needed to stop the Devil but there was no way in hell he was going to go along with whatever plans the angels had for him and Sam.

The sound of fluttering wings caused both Dean and Zachariah to look toward the front of the store. Dean feared that the new arrival was more of Zach's buddies and was immediately surprised to see Castiel standing in the doorway.

"Dean," the trench-coat clad angel said and walked forward.

Zachariah turned his attention on the intruder, "What are you doing here, Castiel? You cannot stop the Apocalypse."

Cas tilted his head, "I may not be able to stop the end of the world but I can stop you."

The angel reached out and touched Dean's hand, transporting them both instantly to Sioux Falls.

Dean stared at his sudden change in surroundings- he was standing in Bobby's living room- and caught sight of his old friend.

"Dean! Are you alright, son? Where's your brother?" Bobby asked.

The young hunter shook his head, "I'm okay Bobby but Sam's… he's gone…"

"Gone? Did he take off again?" Bobby asked worriedly.

"I wish he did," Dean looked at Cas and the older hunter in turn, "It was an ambush. Meg and Ruby attacked us… they killed me-"

"Killed you! Cas, did you find Dean?" Bobby interrupted.

"Zachariah arrived before I did," the angel answered, "he was the one who brought Dean back to life."

"Now I feel like I need to take a hot shower," Dean muttered before continuing.

"I think those two bitches took Sam," Dean finished sadly, "but I don't know why."

"Dean," Cas' voice caused two men to turn to the angel, "I believe I might know why the demons kidnapped Sam."

SPN

Ruby stared down at the unconscious youngest Winchester lying on the bed and crossed her arms over her chest.

The journey back to the farmhouse had taken a lot out of the demon- even with the power-boot Lucifer had given her. Meg had been jealous that Lucifer had given Ruby the same ability that had allowed her father to transport his 'special children' to Cold Oak, North Dakota. A fact which had made the pink-haired demon secretly pleased.

"Feeling nostalgic?" Meg's voice caused Ruby to bristle.

"Doesn't he look so sweet and innocent when he's sleeping?" Meg continued, sarcastically.

Ruby didn't answer. She turned to the bedroom doorway when a shadow darkened it.

Meg and Ruby moved to one side as Lucifer stepped quietly into the room.

The angel's gaze lit upon the sleeping Winchester and he smiled. Lucifer approached the young man and reached out one hand.

Ruby watched as her father brushed Sam's long bangs off his forehead before placing his hand on the young man's chest.

Ruby flinched when Sam jerked but remained unconscious.

"What did you do?" Meg asked, her brown eyes shining.

"I carved Enochian sigils into his ribs- they will keep him hidden from my brothers," Lucifer explained softly.

"Tell me the moment he awakens," Lucifer told Meg and the demon nodded eagerly.

Ruby watched silently as her father walked casually from the room.

Turning away, she sighed and left Meg alone with the young man.


	5. Chapter Five

"Woah, woah, woah - hold up. So you're saying that Michael, theArchangel, wants to wear me - as his meatsuit," Dean reiterated Castiel's words. "And Lucifer, TheDevil, plans to wear my brother to the prom as well," Dean emphasized, feeling astounded from the revelations. He was Michael's sword, and he wasn't proud or honored with that in the least. No way is he gonna let some dick with wings ride him in his own body.

Castiel, in his monotone voice, replied with a nod, "I suppose, yes."

"Well, we are not gonna say yes to those sons of bitches, especially not after the way they played us!" Dean exclaimed angrily.

"You might not, Dean. But it is strong possibility that your brother will." Castiel informed him.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Sam would never say yes to Lucifer, would he?

"Lucifer is very powerful, Dean. He could hurt your brother in ways that you could not even imagine in your worst nightmares, things that not even Hell can do to a soul. And all without killing Sam in the process. Not to mention, Sam believes you to be dead." Castiel explained.

Dean suddenly felt horrified, because none of those things had crossed his mind. He hadn't thought about torture, hadn't realized that Sam didn't know he'd been resurrected. And right now, Sam was in Lucifer's clutches, and only God knows what the bastard must be doing to him to make him give consent. Dean held his head as he turned away from his two friends, feeling terror rise within him at the horrors going through his mind, thoughts of what Lucifer might be doing to Sam at that very moment. Adding in the fact that Sam was already insecure enough about himself and that self-hate had probably solidified and increased even more after the argument the brothers had had the night before, Dean knew the kid better than anyone so he also knew that Sam would be blaming himself for his death. "Damn it," He whispered to himself as he plopped down on the couch, hiding his face in his hands.

"Dean, it's gonna be okay, kid. We'll save Sam." Bobby reassured softly, striding over to him and resting a hand on his shoulder. "Lucifer ain't gonna kill him, not under any circumstances, and that's a really good thing, boy."

"I know that. But - but what if Sam - "

"Sam's a strong kid. He'll hold on, long enough for us to save him." Bobby said, wanting to give the despairing young man in front of him some hope. "He may think you're dead, kid, but I know the boy well enough. He'd know that ya would want him to keep fighting, and that's exactly what he's gonna do."

Dean lifted his head up, unshed tears in the corners of his eyes as he stared at Bobby, a flicker of hope in his expression. "Thanks Bobby." He whispered softly.

SPN

Sam came slowly back to the world of the living. His eyelids were heavy and he fought to open them. The first things he noticed were the noises, but he couldn't concentrate on them because they sounded muffled. He weakly moved his head towards the sounds, hoping that it was Dean's or Bobby's voices, but it couldn't be, because they sounded feminine.

"...Think...wakin'..." He heard the voice say a bit more clearly, and surprisingly it sounded mildly familiar but he just couldn't recall it.

"Y'thin'...don'...tha'?" He heard another voice reply, and it sounded angry.

Sam knitted his eyebrows together in effort as he managed to open his eyes to half-mast, and there appeared in his blurry vision two girls, one pink-haired and the other black-haired, and he searched in his memory because they looked familiar and he just couldn't remember. Where had he seen them?

But then it all came back to Sam, so fast he barely had time to think, and the loudest and clearest one was the death of his brother, the sharp snap of Dean's neck. And the echoing sound in his head was all it took for his haze of confusion to clear up.

"Dean!" Sam screamed as his eyes flew wide open and he jolted upright instantly but was stopped by something tugging at his wrist, and he looked up to see a handcuff encircling it. The other end of the cuff was locked around the metal headboard of a bed, effectively trapping Sam. The position was uncomfortable, his arm stretched out behind him. His eyes watered, spilling down his cheeks. Dean's dead now and it was all because of him, because the demons wanted him.

"Dean..." He whimpered softly, just wanting his big brother with him, alive and smiling, giving him an affectionate pat on his back for the hot cup of coffee he handed to him, or when he'd call him his trusty side-kick 'Geekboy' after he solved a very complicated case, or when he'd catch a girl staring at him and he'd blush and his brother would nudge his shoulder playfully, grinning at him widely and bouncing his eyebrows up and down at him. Sam's mouth twisted upwards as more tears slid down his tan cheeks.

Ruby felt a flare of compassion rise within her at the state of the youngest Winchester, the broken look on his face. She lowered herself to an eye-level with him, one hand on her own knee, the other on his to give him a bit of solace. Over the beginning of the past year's events, she had started liking him a bit, and she didn't know how or when it turned into something more. "Sam, it's gonna be okay."

Sam turned to face her angrily, his eyes still moist, cheeks still wet with drying tears. But before he could even say a word, another voice interrupted him.

"Ah, you're finally awake, Sam." Lucifer said, walking in between the two demons to see his vessel.

"Who...who are you?" Sam asked, a hint of trepidation creeping into his low voice.

Instead of answering, the blond-haired man spoke as though he hadn't heard the young man's question, "I believe it is only polite that I should be thanking you. After all, you are the one who released me." The stranger's lips curved into a smile.

Sam stilled completely, except for his Adam's apple bouncing as he swallowed shakily, eyes wide. He could hear harsh panting from somewhere, and a second later he realized it was him. "L-Lucifer?" He managed to whisper.

"Nice guess."

SPN

Castiel placed two fingers on Dean's lower left side- the young man about to ask him just what the hell does he think he's doing- when he suddenly doubled over with excruciating pain on the inside of his ribs, face scrunched up in agony as he wrapped his arms around his middle, peering up at the angel angrily.

"Wh - what the hell was that?" Dean growled in a strangled, pained voice.

"I carved Enochian sigils onto your ribs. They will make it impossible for Zachariah or Michael to locate you without using more... human methods." Castiel elaborated.

"Well how about, oh I don't know, alerting me the next time you use your angel mojo on me!" Dean shouted, although there was no real heat in his words.

"I apologize." Castiel said sincerely, or as sincerely as he can with his impassive voice.

Dean closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "Actually, I'm sorry. It's just...Sammy-"

"I understand." Castiel cut him off.

Dean nodded gratefully, lowering himself down on the couch.

"You're angry at your brother." Castiel observed and tilted his head as he sat beside Dean. The hunter turned to look up at him, furrowing his eyebrows. The angel continued. "But you still love him very deeply."

Dean swallowed at the emotion clogging his throat, looking down at his hands. He didn't shake his head or nod, but that was okay.

Castiel already knew the answer.

They stayed quiet for a whole minute, until the silence was cut through by a sigh. Suddenly, Dean's back stiffened as if something had just occurred to him. He turned his head to look at his angel friend with such intense hope glowing in his eyes; the angel was almost tempted to lie, knowing exactly what the human must be thinking. "Hey Cas - speaking of your angel mojo - maybe we can use your powers to locate Sam. I mean, you always seem to know where we are without having to be told. I can't believe I didn't think of this before! It's so simple!"

"I have already tried that, but I have been unsuccessful in locating your brother. It seems that Lucifer has already carved his own Enochian Sigils before I could find Sam."

Dean closed his eyes and ducked his head down in disappointment. He opened them again and looked over at Bobby, his nose buried in a book all about tracking spells and completely oblivious to the world around him.

SPN

Sam curled up helplessly on his bed, dark circles already forming under his eyes at the lack of sleep. It was probably sometime in the middle of the night, and if it wasn't for the small window at the left wall of the room, he wouldn't even have been able to tell that.

"Dean." He sobbed quietly as he buried his nose into his knees, closing his eyes as they burned with tears, the sound of his brother's neck snapping echoed continuously in his mind. It was all he could think of, the ache in his heart non-stop, the painful squeezing of his gut from guilt and despair, the whole day, just wishing his brother was here with him right now.

He's all Sam wanted right now, so badly that it hurts.

Once again, he was the one to blame for Dean's death — just like before. But the difference now is that Dean probably won't ever come back like he always did, and that thought alone made Sam want to wail like a little girl.

Just like everyone else's death, their blood was on Sam's hands.

"M'so sorry." He apologized softly, his voice only a whisper. "S'all m'fault." He bit his trembling lower lip.

He felt a warm weight on his shoulder, a hand.

And maybe a part of him — the one that's still in denial of Dean's death (Because Dean can't die, he just can't. And even if he does, he always finds a way back to his brother, they always find a way back to each other) — thought it might be Dean.

He instantaneously shot up into sitting position, a small hint of hope on his face.

The hope that flickered like a candle in his heart vanished completely into nothing.

It wasn't Dean. It was Ruby.

Sam slumped back against the headboard behind him. "What do you want, Ruby?" He whispered wearily. He knew it would've sounded a bit more intimidating if his tone was angry, but he didn't have enough strength in him to muster it.

He was just tired, drained of energy, emotionally and physically.

"You're missing Dean, aren't you?" The compassion in her tone sounded so real, but he knew it was fake. He knew that from past experience. It was the same tone she used to lure him into her trap, making him think that she was with him all along, that she cared.

And he was so desperate and lonely at the time that he fell right into it, when he had really been all alone that whole time. Ruby was just using him as a pawn in some grand game that he hadn't known he'd been a player in.

And he's back to square one, but he won't make that same mistake again. She won't fool him this time.

"Just leave me alone." He whispered softly.

"How can I leave you alone when you're like this, Sam? You know I care about you too much to do that." She said softly, reaching out to cradle his cheek.

But Sam rejected the gesture, jerking his head away with a faint sneer twisting his features.

She curled her fingers a bit, before pulling her hand back and putting it down on her lap.

"Look, I know you're mad after what we did to your brother, but we had no choice — "

Something in him snapped at that. "I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!" He barked at her furiously, shoving her off the bed.

"Sam — "

"GO AWAY!" He bellowed again, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as his face crumpled against his will. Dean was dead, gone forever.

"Now now, Sam. I really don't appreciate you treating my children that way." A calm voice interrupted them.

They both glanced over to find Lucifer leaning on the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

He pushed off of the wall and started moving towards Sam.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like you care." Sam growled angrily.

Lucifer sighed dramatically before leaning in to gaze intensely into Sam's angry eyes.

"Of course I care, Sam.

After all, you are my Vessel."


	6. Chapter Six

Castiel watched in silence as the two men prepared the tracking spell Bobby had found. He doubted that such magic would work against his brother's angelic power but was reluctant to tell his friends the truth.

"Dean," Cas spoke quietly, too quietly for the man to hear and the hunter continued to crush herbs with a pestle and mortar while Bobby pored over a tome written in ancient Sumerian.

Castiel turned away from the two humans, unwilling to see the disappointment on their faces when the spell failed.

SPN

Dean's features shone with a determination as he and Bobby prepared the tracking spell the older hunter had found.

Dean just hoped- no, he prayed- that the spell would work and they'd be able to find Sam before something worse happened to him.

Hold on Sammy, Dean thought desperately, we'll find yah. Just hang on.

As though he could read the younger man's mind, Bobby looked up and grunted, "We're gonna find 'im, Dean."

The eldest Winchester nodded, "I know, we always do. I just hope we don't find him too late."

Bobby didn't respond, not wanting to think of what would happen if they didn't find Sam in time.

The grizzled hunter spread an old road atlas of the States out on the table and looked pointedly at Dean, "You've got something of your brother's, right?"

The young man nodded and held up a long, dark brown hair pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

Bobby nodded in approval and told Dean to drop the hair in with the herbs. Dean held his breath as the older man picked up the mortar and struck a match, dropping it into the small, grey-marble bowl.

Bobby recited the incantation as the hair and herbs burned, Dean looking on.

Once the ingredients were nothing but ash, Bobby tipped the mortar over the map and waited.

The ashes floated over the road map for a moment before settling, scattered all over the paper in no particular pattern.

Both Bobby and Dean leaned forward, trying to discern meaning from the chaos.

The older man was the one to speak first, "You sure it was Sam's hair?"

Dean sat back and glowered at his fellow hunter, "Yeah, I'm sure! It was on one of Sam's shirts."

Bobby raised an eyebrow incredulously, "Could have been a girl's."

Dean shook his head, "You know the kid as well as I do. There is no way that that hair was anyone's but Sammy's."

Bobby scratched his bearded chin, still eyeing the map as though Sam's location would suddenly come to light.

"Maybe you said the incantation wrong," Dean suggested.

"I didn't say nothing wrong!" Bobby growled.

"Then where is Sam?" Dean snarled.

"No spell will work, Dean," Castiel's gravelly voice caused both men to jump in their seats.

"What're you talkin' about?" Bobby asked, squinting at the angel.

"The Enochian sigils Lucifer carved on Sam's ribs- the same that I carved on Dean's- prevent other angels from finding them but also render all tracking spells and the like completely useless. You could perform a hundred different spells a hundred different times and you still would be no closer to finding Sam," the angel explained sadly.

"Balls," Bobby swore and Dean swept the map, mortar and pestle off the table with a crash.

Suddenly the younger man stood, one hand running through his hair in agitation.

"How are we going to find Sam, then?" he asked out loud, not really seeking an answer.

Castiel's expression remained blank as the two men turned to look at him.

"I do not know," the angel said truthfully.

SPN

Blue eyes stared into green ones.

"Let me in," Lucifer said in a deceptively soft voice.

"No," Sam replied flatly and averted his gaze.

The fallen angel sighed and stood up from where he had been crouching next to the bed Sam was confined to.

"My patience is wearing thin," the Devil told Sam but the young man remained silent.

Lucifer's hand twitched as though he longed to strike the boy but the angel refrained. Despite what his brothers might believe, Lucifer would rather gain Sam Winchester's permission using a silver tongue instead of an iron fist. It had been nearly four days since Meg and Ruby had brought Lucifer's true vessel to the tiny farmhouse and in all that time the human had been given nothing to eat or drink- the Devil's power would prevent him from dying- in hopes that Sam's bodily need for sustenance would win out against his stubborn refusal to comply.

"I will bring your parents back for you," Lucifer plied the young man, "I can bring Jessica back, and Dean as well, if that is what you'd like."

Sam didn't answer but the Devil could see the human watching him from the corner of his eye.

"I'll even allow you to spend some time with them before-" the fallen angel was interrupted by the young man's snarled reply.

"I don't want anything from you!"

Lucifer didn't even startle at the outburst, he just sighed as if he was tired and turned away from Sam.

"Perhaps tomorrow you will feel differently," the fallen angel said quietly and left the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

SPN

Ruby crept as silently as a shadow down the hall, making sure she wasn't being followed before opening the door to the room Sam was in. It was the wee hours of the morning- the sky outside still black as coal- but the demon could see perfectly.

Ruby slipped into the bedroom and approached the bed where Sam slept.

The demon's heart actually clenched a little bit in sympathy at the sight of the young man curled up on the covers… but only a little bit.

Not wanting to scare the human, Ruby reached out and put one hand on the man's shoulder.

"Sam," she breathed his name but found that he had already awakened at her touch.

Sitting up, he blinked owlishly before asking tiredly, "What do you want, Ruby?"

"May I sit down?" Ruby asked and Sam shrugged, "Am I going to stop you?"

The demon frowned but sat down on the bed, the sheets warm from the young man's body heat.

"I brought you something," Ruby said and showed Sam the glass of water she was holding.

Sam looked at the offering suspiciously.

"I didn't poison it or anything," Ruby assured him and proffered the beverage again.

Hesitatingly, Sam reached out with his free hand and took the glass. His mouth and throat were so dry; they felt like they'd been coated in sandpaper.

Ruby watched as the young man took one large swallow of the liquid before slowing down to sipping it.

"Thank you," Sam mumbled and the demon gave a small smile.

Ruby brushed a strand of her host's pink hair over her shoulder and sighed, "If it's worth anything, I didn't know this was going to happen."

Sam gave a cynical smile right back at her, "Yeah, I'm sure you didn't know that Lucifer's way of showing his gratitude to me would be to demand I become a fucking angel condom."

Ruby flinched a little at the harshness of the young man's words.

"Fine," she pouted, "Don't believe me."

Sam didn't respond but turned the glass of water around in his hand.

"And don't think that's gonna ever happen again," the demon indicated the water.

"This was a one-time thing. I've got a reputation to uphold," Ruby commented and fiddled with the edge of the blanket.

"You should be honoured to be Lucifer's vessel, you know," the demon continued after a pregnant pause, "Not many humans get the chance to do something so great."

"Too bad I'm not going to take advantage of this opportunity," Sam mumbled, his voice already slurring with tiredness.

"Why not? What's so good about this world anyway?" Ruby asked, genuinely curious and insulted by Sam's stubbornness.

"You wouldn't understand," Sam told her and Ruby folded her arms angrily over her chest.

"I was human once too, you know," she snapped, "So why are you doing this? Do you think that if you tell the Devil to go screw himself long enough he'll let up? Do you think that you'll get some sort of parade? A holiday in your name? The Nobel Peace Prize?"

Sam shook his head slowly.

"What has the world ever done for you that deems it worthy of being saved?" Ruby wanted to know.

Sam sighed, "Just drop it, Ruby."

"You think that anyone is going to remember you when this is all over?" the demon asked, her voice much softer and without any anger in it now.

"What are you two lovebirds chatting about?"

Both Sam and Ruby jumped at the sound of the voice.

Meg leaned against the doorframe, a smile clear on her face.

Ruby snatched the glass of water from Sam's hand and dangled it just out of his reach, as if taunting him.

Meg entered the room, "Don't worry about it, Sister, I won't tell our Father."

Ruby lowered the glass and watched warily as the other demon approached. Meg walked around the bed until she was standing right in front of Sam and Ruby.

"I don't hold it against you- how could you be around a Winchester for so long and not begin to feel something," Meg reached out and grabbed Sam's lower jaw in her hand, "I mean, just look at that face."

Meg turned Sam's head so that he was staring at Ruby; the demon cringed because the young man was clearly uncomfortable with the amount of pressure Meg was exerting on his jaw.

Releasing Sam, Meg's gaze traveled to the half-empty glass of water Ruby still held, "Besides, you and I both know that hope can be the best torture of all."

SPN

Dean paced Bobby's living room. A pile of books sat on the couch, all opened haphazardly and discarded.

"Didn't ya hear what Cas said?" the older hunter asked from behind a stack of books teetering precariously on his desk.

"Something has to work!" Dean insisted, "Maybe… maybe there's a spell out there that can get through the Enochian symbols…"

Bobby grumbled something that sounded like, 'damned idjit' but Dean wasn't listening.

"Damn it! Why didn't Sam run when I told him to?"

The older hunter stood and peered at his friend from over the tower of books, "There was no way yer brother was gonna leave you at the mercy of a couple of demons."

Dean nodded distractedly, "Demons… demons… Bobby, that it! The demons!"

"The demons what?" Bobby raised an eyebrow.

Dean looked like he wanted to shout 'Eureka' to the heavens but instead he called out Castiel's name.

"Dean, care to explain what's going on in that head of yers," Bobby suggested.

"Cas can't find Sam because the sigils keep him hidden but Meg and Ruby don't have the same sort of invisibility cloak," Dean said rapidly as if he'd lose his train of thought if he slowed down, "I'm thinking that if Cas can get a bead on the demons, they'll lead us right to wherever Lucifer has Sam."

Bobby, ready to shoot down Dean's hare-brained scheme, closed his mouth and smiled, "That actually ain't half bad, Winchester. You been taking lessons from Sam?"

The grizzled hunter could have sworn he saw Dean blush. Not that the younger man would ever admit to it, before commenting, "I just let Sammy think he's the smart one because I don't want his university education to go to waste."

Dean hoped that his idea could work and Cas would be able to track Meg and Ruby.

A faint fluttering of wings announced the angel's arrival and Castiel peered at the younger hunter expectantly.

"Yes Dean?" the angel asked.

The young man raised an eyebrow, "Where were you?"

"Your brother's abduction is not the only event that has occurred within the past few days, Dean," Cas answered vaguely and Dean scowled.

"Speaking of," the hunter began, "Since Lucifer's keeping Sammy under your radar I was thinking that he might have forgotten to keep some of his minions hidden as well."

Castiel blinked at the human for a moment.

"Can you track down Ruby and Meg? I'm thinking that if we can find them then we'll find Sammy," Dean explained and held his breath, waiting for the angel to find some fault with the plan.

Cas cocked his head to the side for a moment, "It might take some time to locate the demons but it does not seem like an impossible feat."

Dean couldn't help but smile with relief. Now they were getting somewhere.

"I will begin tracking down the demons immediately," Cas assured Dean, "In the meantime I think it wise if you stayed here- Zachariah is undoubtedly still searching for you-"

Dean stopped the angel in mid sentence, "But if you find out where those bitches are I'm coming with you, right?"

Cas paused for a moment, "Dean, it would be very dangerous for you to accompany me. Lucifer is very powerful… not to mention…his… demons…"

The look on the young hunter's face sent Cas stuttering to a stop.

"I'm not asking, Cas. I'm telling you that when you find Sammy I am coming with you," Dean said in a voice low with anger.

"Very well," Cas's features were as blank as marble, "When I locate your brother I will take you with me."

"Damn right you will," Dean muttered under his breath after the angel had vanished.

Bobby cleared his throat, "Uh, son… you know, Cas might have a point."

Dean rounded on Bobby, "I am not sitting around on my ass until Cas decides to magically appear with my brother!"

"An' I don't blame ya for wanting to tag along but… remember what Cas said about the Devil torturin' Sam? I'm sure you could very well hold yer own against any demons that tried to come between you and yer brother but…" Bobby began, not really sure exactly how to tell Dean that Sam could be in bad shape.

"Bobby, its Sam," Dean said and Bobby shook his head.

"Just think on it, Dean, will ya? It might be faster an' safer if Cas just went to get yer brother," the older hunter begged, "We don' wanna put Sam through more stress than necessary."

Dean frowned, knowing that there was truth to Bobby's words. Instead of telling his friends so, Dean turned to the couch, gathered an armful of books from the cushions and began putting them back onto their shelves.

SPN

Lucifer peered at his reflection in the mirror above the kitchen sink. The fallen angel frowned when he caught sight of a burn the size of a dime just at his hairline- his vessel was starting to show signs of breaking down already- and raised his eyes upward. Sam Winchester could not refuse him indefinitely. The Devil had waited over a thousand millennia for the chance to walk the Earth once again and the idea of being stymied by a human enraged him. Sam Winchester was his vessel. His. And by hook or by crook he would consent.

Straightening, the fallen angel peered around the kitchen awash in grey pre-dawn light.

"Tybalt," the Devil barely whispered the name and the demon appeared.

"I think our guest would appreciate a change in scenery," Lucifer informed the demon and beckoned to Tybalt to follow him.

SPN

Meg and Ruby left in the wee hours of the morning. Sam didn't know the exact time and if he was honest with himself he didn't really care either way. He dozed on and off after the two demons had gone, woken up every time by nightmares of Dean's death, the sound of his neck snapping echoing through Sam's mind even as he startled from sleep.

Sam was thirsty. His parched throat felt even worse than it had before he had drank the water Ruby had brought. Sam wondered momentarily if the demon really had put something in the water but quickly dismissed the idea. Lucifer, like the other angels, surely possessed a power of his own and would not need to use something as mundane as poison to get the answer he desired from Sam. Grimacing as he swallowed, the young man tried to shift position, attempting to get as comfortable as possible. His cuffed wrist protested the movement and Sam hissed in pain as the metal bracelet dug into his arm.

Sam glanced up when he heard the bedroom door open. He tensed when he saw an unfamiliar demon walk in, Lucifer following in his wake.

Already aware of what the Devil was going to say, to ask, Sam's response was immediately on the tip of his tongue as Lucifer approached the bed.

"Good morning, Sam," the blond-haired man said pleasantly.

Sam narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "What makes it good?"

"Handcuffs. Very uncivilized, don't you think? You're not an animal, are you? There's no need to keep you chained up like one," Lucifer spoke, ignoring Sam's question.

The angel flicked a hand toward the young man and the handcuffs snapped open. Sam quickly drew his hand out of the circle of metal and rubbed at his wrist momentarily.

"I don't suppose you're going to let me go?" Sam's voice was laced with venom but the Devil's countenance didn't change.

"I don't suppose you're going to say yes?" Lucifer asked and when no answer from the young man was forthcoming, continued, "I thought as much."

"No matter, no matter," Lucifer said vaguely and turned to the male demon, "Tybalt, would you kindly escort Mr. Winchester downstairs, please?"

The demon nodded, looking slightly nervous and approached Sam.

The young man had no idea why Lucifer wanted him to go downstairs but he was sure that he wasn't being invited to have tea and cookies with the Devil and his minions.

Reluctant to go anywhere with the enemy but also unsure of what Lucifer would do if he refused to move, Sam stood before the demon could come within an arm's length of him.

"Don't you dare touch me," Sam warned off Tybalt and the demon seemed to take his threat seriously because he actually moved out of Sam's way when he approached.

"Tybalt," Lucifer barely breathed the demon's name but that single word seemed to either give the minion courage or spur him into action for fear of the repercussions of disobedience.

The demon reached out as though he were about to grab a live power-line and wrapped a strong hand firmly around Sam's bicep.

The young man's muscles turned to stone, adrenaline coursed through his veins and he fought the instinct to pull away from the demon. Sam could feel that Tybalt was keeping his strength under control and knew that the demon could easily pulverize the bones in his arm if he had half a mind to.

"Proceed," the Devil gestured toward the bedroom door and the hallway that lay beyond.

The demon tugged at Sam's arm and the young man had no choice but to follow, shepherded along behind Tybalt.

Lucifer brought up the rear of the unusual procession as the trio made their way down the stairs and into the front hallway. Sam could see the entryway to the kitchen right across from him and a small living room on the other side.

The Devil stepped around Sam and Tybalt, brushing against the human for a moment and smiled when Sam shivered. He strolled into the kitchen and opened a door with peeling green paint that lead to a shadowy basement.

Now Sam resisted. He dug his heels into the hardwood floor and refused to move.

The demon pulled on his arm, glancing from Sam to Lucifer, unsure of exactly what to do.

"I'm not going down there," Sam said, cringing when his voice came out as a raspy squeak of fear.

"Will you let me in?" Lucifer asked patiently, one hand on the basement door's handle as if ready to close it as soon as Sam said yes.

"No," Sam ground out, clenching his teeth together.

"Very well," Lucifer said, "Tybalt, bring him here."

The demon jerked Sam forward and the young man stumbled into the doorway. Sam, realizing that he was doomed if he went down to that basement, grabbed onto the doorframe with his free hand, digging his nails into the soft wood and old wallpaper.

"You are only going to end up making this worse for yourself," Lucifer advised but made no move to pry Sam away from the entranceway.

Obediently Tybalt continued to pull on Sam's other arm, unable to move the young man from where he'd anchored himself.

Sam heard Lucifer sigh as though he was bored, "Tybalt, if he doesn't let go now, break his arm."

Sam cried out in pain as the demon grabbed the wrist of the hand clutching at the doorframe and crushed the bones. Sam immediately released his grip on the doorframe and he drew his broken arm to his chest protectively.

Tears of agony welled up unbidden in Sam's eyes and he wiped them away angrily with his uninjured hand.

The demon prodded Sam and as though his feet had a mind of their own, the young man stepped forward.

Lucifer waited until Sam was standing mere inches away from him before he motioned toward the rickety, wooden staircase leading down to a hard-packed dirt floor.

"After you," the Devil said and Sam glared daggers at him, the effect diminished somewhat by the tears in the young man's eyes.

As Sam slowly, painfully (every step jarred his broken wrist) crept down the stairs he suddenly had an irrational fear that Lucifer was going to shove him.

Sam froze when the door closed and plunged them both into darkness for a moment. When the light from a single, naked bulb illuminated the dank, dark cellar, Sam felt no relief; instead his heartbeat picked up pace and his eyes darted around nervously, warily, seeking out hidden enemies in the depths of the basement.

Once his feet touched the damp, sour-smelling earthen floor of the cellar, Sam's legs gave out and he crumpled to the ground. Nearly a week without food and very little water had taken its toll on the young man.

Lucifer stepped around Sam as though he were nothing more than a doormat and looked around the basement for a moment. Its walls were impenetrable stone, large boulder-sized rocks that had probably been dug up and put to use as foundation when the house had been built. The only brightness came from the light bulb- there were no windows- that failed to illuminate the farthest corners of the basement. There were spider webs crisscrossing the wooden ceiling and Sam shivered at the cold seeping up from the dirt floor.

"I'm sorry it's come to this, Sam," Lucifer spoke up, startling Sam momentarily.

The Devil wasn't even looking at him; his gaze was pinned on a fat, brown spider making its way from one of the ceiling's support beams to another.

"I tried to be polite, I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt," Lucifer continued, blue eyes tracking the spider, "I can understand that learning you are my vessel was… disorienting."

Sam gritted his teeth in pain. A string of snot dribbled from his nose but he ignored it.

"I thought that you would be receptive, Sam," the fallen angel continued to speak, "After all, you were made for me… why would you refuse?"

Sighing, Lucifer tore his gaze away from the arachnid and looked down at Sam with an almost pitying expression on his face.

"But you force my hand, Sam," Lucifer said ominously, "I would rather not gain your permission in this manner but you are leaving me little choice."

Drawing in a shaky breath, Sam asked, "I'll never agree to be your meatsuit."

Lucifer gave a knowing smile, "I think you will, Sam. I really think you will."


	7. Chapter Seven

Sam screamed.

A loud, blood-curdling, incredibly anguished scream.

A long chain hung from the ceiling, ending at a closed-in pair of shackles that are encircling both of Sam's wrists, his feet dangled inches from the ground. His nails bled profusely, five thin trails of blood - from each finger - running down the back of his hands and arms from the recent torture used on him: an invisible, hard pressure under his nails - and it hurt like fucking hell.

"Will you still refuse to let me in, Sam?" Lucifer asked calmly.

"Sc-screw you." He choked out in a pained voice.

The Devil just smiled.

He felt an inexplicable, almost unbearable agony in what felt like every one of his internal organs, and he felt something rise up to his throat, a large amount of blood starting pooling his mouth, streaming down his chin like a ruby-colored waterfall. He almost felt tempted to say 'yes' as long as it put an end to this horrific torment.

Sam gasped, grinding his teeth against the pain. A tiny whimper escaped from his lips and he panted heavily through his nose. He screwed his eyes shut and restrained the oncoming tears, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. More red, coppery-tasting, liquid escaped through his mouth. His insides burned again, worse than the last time, and this time, it elicited a scream from him. Yet, after all of this, he was still alive and breathing. It scared him more than he thought it would because right now, he wished for nothing but death, anything to stop all of this, and also perhaps death was the only way to Dean now.

Dean.

He smiled softly at the thought of his big brother. It gave him more courage to keep on fighting, because he knew that was what Dean would want him to do. And whether Dean was alive or dead, Sam wasn't going to let him down again - no matter what.

"Will you let me in?" Lucifer asked the same question once again.

"No." Sam answered weakly, sticking to his word stubbornly.

His insides burned once again, even worse than before. And this time, he made no sound, his mouth wide open in a silent scream. A nearly inaudible strangled noise released. The pain stole his breath away.

There was no kind of sound to explain what level of anguish he was going through.

SPN

Dean paced back and forth anxiously, his eyes constantly searching the living room for a familiar figure in a trench coat. He yearned to hear those three words in that monotonous, gravel voice.

I found them.

"Damn it Dean! Would ya mind sitting down for a few minutes?!" Bobby bellowed irritably.

Dean stilled, and sighed heavily. "Sorry Bobby." He apologized half-heartedly, pulling a chair over to sit down. His mind kept drifting to Sam against his will, no matter how hard he tried fighting it. He tried doing some sort of activity, washing dishes, reading a book, tried to surf the Internet or play Solitaire on his brother's laptop (but he didn't use it for long, because it kept reminding him of Sam) but nothing worked. So eventually he just gave up and gave into it.

"It's alright, kid. I understand." Bobby said softly. After all, the boy was only concerned and fearful for his brother, and it wasn't exactly news to him. He had seen this side of Dean a lot, and it was not really a pleasant experience.

Dean looked lost in thoughts, the focus of his eyes indicated that so. He stared silently, and a bit unnervingly, at the wall. Having your brother kidnapped by the Devil himself would do that to you.

"Sam will be fine." Bobby reassured the younger man, although he doubted his own words. Lucifer would, undoubtedly, be creative in his torture methods.

Dean snapped out of his reverie with a slight jump, the suddenness of Bobby's voice startling him. "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, yeah, sure."

"You didn't hear me, did ya?" Bobby said knowingly with a raised eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. "I said: Sam's gonna be fine. I didn't ask you to go ran an errand or wash the dishes."

Dean swallowed and nodded. "I, uh - I know that." He responded, and resumed to his previous state.

Bobby exhaled sadly, knowing that there nothing he could say or do to comfort his friend. Dean wasn't not going believe anything unless he saw Sam for himself.


	8. Chapter Eight

Sam's chin rested on his chest. His eyes were half-closed and his breath was ragged with stress. His sweat-soaked hair stuck to his forehead in greasy clumps. Dried blood stained the front of his shirt, had trailed down his chin and neck.

Looking up through burning eyes, Sam tried to follow Lucifer as he paced before him, finger tapping his lips, seemingly deep in thought.

"It pains me to do this, Sam," Lucifer told him in his deceptively soft tone, "It truly does. I just don't understand why you continue to be obstinate."

Sam closed his eyes when his vision blurred and his stomach somersaulted with nausea.

A part of him wanted to give in. The part that had allowed him to trust Ruby- a demon- even when he knew deep down that it was wrong, wanted to scream yes to the heavens as long as it would make the agony stop. But Sam tramped down that voice in his head; that tired, weak voice that told him he knew nothing was going to come of saying no. So why continue the torture?

Sam's stubborn nature, though, shone through, even now and he would bite his tongue, trap that one word for as long as possible- hopefully forever- because Dean would want him to.

Dean.

"Are you doing this for your brother?" Lucifer asked, almost as if he had read Sam's thoughts.

Sam twitched involuntarily, hissing when the movement made the shackles cut deeper into his wrists and jar his strained shoulders.

"Dean is dead," the Devil reminded Sam, "He's gone, Sam. And do you know where he's gone?"

Sam's breath hitched at the teasing note in Lucifer's voice. The Devil gave a Cheshire cat grin as he continued.

"Dean's in Hell, Sammy. He's burning right now. And it's all your fault."

A lump formed in Sam's throat, "Y-you're lying."

Lucifer laughed, "I think not. Tell me, Sam, how long do you think it will take for your beloved big brother to become a demon?"

"It's n-not true!" Sam cried out, his voice raspy, his throat raw from screaming.

Lucifer's blue eyes sparkled with malice, "Maybe I'll let you two have a reunion if you keep refusing me."

"No," Sam whispered and lowered his head.

"I'm sure Dean would be pleased to see you again," the Devil continued and chuckled.

"Dean wouldn't… he couldn't," Sam tried to deny what he knew was the truth. If Dean indeed became a demon, he would be stripped of his humanity, and Sam would just be another body to torture.

"Please," Sam begged, tears squeezing out of his eyes, "Anything but that."

Lucifer looked expectantly at the young man, "I can save you from that, Sam, if you would only let me in."

Sam clenched his teeth together so hard that the muscles in his jaw spasmed.

The Devil frowned at the unresponsive young man. He shrugged and walked around Sam so that he was standing behind him.

"I was so enjoying our conversation," Lucifer told his vessel, "But I can see you tire of it."

"No! Please, don't!" Sam begged hoarsely, straining to look over his shoulder at his tormentor.

Lucifer lifted his hands, his fingers curling into claws as he did so and raked them through the air. Gashes appeared on Sam's back, from the base of his neck to his waist, blood running from the bone-deep wounds.

The Devil dusted his hands off and smiled to himself as Sam's screams of agony filled the basement.

SPN

"An' where do you think yer goin'?" Dean froze with his hand on the doorknob and turned, squinting through the darkness to see the burly form of Bobby Singer.

"I gotta get out, Bobby," Dean didn't let go of the door handle as he spoke, "It's friggin' claustrophobic in here."

Bobby turned on the hallway light, causing the younger man to narrow his eyes momentary at the sudden brightness.

"An' do ya remember what Cas said about Zachariah and his goon squad bein' after yer hide?"

Dean's eyes glittered angrily, "I'm not afraid of those douchebags."

Bobby shrugged, "I know you ain't but they're gunning for ya and if you set foot outside a' this house you'll be walkin' into their waitin' arms."

Finally Dean released his grip on the doorknob, his fingers slipping from the slick metal.

"I just can't stop worrying about Sammy," Dean confessed- thought it wasn't much of a confession because Bobby already was well aware of what was taking such a toll on his young friend- and stepped further into the house, away from the front door.

"I know, son," Bobby said and made his way into the kitchen, Dean following along behind him like a lost puppy.

The veteran hunter put a pot of coffee on and leaned against the counter. He knew it was unlikely Dean would be able to get back to sleep now and he might as well keep him company.

"It's been days and Cas hasn't appeared once!" Dean lamented and dropped down onto one of the chairs. He ruffled his messy hair and peered up at his surrogate father.

"What if Sam says yes?" Dean asked, voicing the one thing that he feared the most, the one thing that made his heart pound like a jackhammer and his mouth go dry as the Sahara desert.

"If Sam does, we'll find a way to save him," Bobby assured the eldest Winchester.

Dean nodded absentmindedly. That was all well and good to be so vague but Dean wasn't sure there was any way to force an angel to vacate his or her vessel. He was sure there was no secret, hidden angel exorcism that they'd miraculously stumble upon… they just weren't that lucky.

Dean gulped and rubbed at his tired eyes. He'd hardly had any sleep for almost two weeks and he could feel those restless nights starting to catch up with him.

"What do you think they're doing to him?" Dean asked quietly and Bobby frowned.

"Aw Dean," he began, "Don't do that."

Dean glanced up at Bobby and although the older man saw tears in his eyes, his expression was angry.

"When we get Sam back… we should know," he bit out as though the words tasted bitter.

"Cas'll be able to fix 'im up good as new," Bobby said, "You know that."

Dean nodded, "Sure, he can heal physical wounds…"

He didn't finish the sentence and he didn't have to. Bobby knew what Dean was talking about. Psychological scars were something even Castiel couldn't touch. The old hunter didn't even want to imagine what those injuries would do to Sam.

The coffee finished percolating and Bobby grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and filled them, adding a splash of whiskey to each for good measure.

Dean thanked his friend as Bobby handed the coffee to him and the two men slipped into silence, each lost in his own thoughts.

Neither Dean nor Bobby paid any mind to the slowly approaching morning, they barely noticed as the darkness outside of the ramshackle house turned grey and shadows grew long. Neither man looked up to admire the rising sun as it scattered rays of pink and red and orange throughout the sky.

Dean's eyes felt gritty and itchy with lack of sleep. His back throbbed in protest from sitting in the kitchen chair for hours. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he should be eating something for breakfast. Dean ignored all of his physical pains, wondering what kind of pain his little brother must be in at that very moment. Dean's imagination mixed with his memories of Hell to paint a gruesome picture.

Oh God, Sammy, what have I done? I should have protected you better. I should have known they'd come after you… like always… I should have known they weren't finished with us.

Dean put his head in his hands as tears leaked from his eyes. He didn't even move when he felt Bobby's hand against his back.

"I s-should have l-looked a-a-after him better, Bobby," Dean cried earnestly for the first time in a long time, "I sh-should have p-protected hi-him!"

"Ya did what you could," Bobby tried to comfort the young man, knowing he would be fighting a losing battle.

"All I cared a-about what that f-fucking demon! All I c-could think about w-was Sam's blood ad-addiction. I was s-so focused on w-what the angels wanted fr-from me that I didn't think about my own brother!" Dean continued, his shoulders shaking with the strain.

"Sam knows you care about him, Dean," Bobby said, "That's why he stayed with you in River Pass, boy."

Dean sniffed and lifted his head, "Huh… and all I did was make him feel like shit about it."

Bobby frowned, "Then you'll just have to make it up to him when we get 'im back."

Dean turned to look at his friend. A ghost of a smile crossed his face.

"Yeah," Dean said softly, "I think I can do that."

SPN

Meg smirked as she walked down the basement steps. A group of five demons- also loyalists- followed behind her.

Stepping down onto the hard-packed floor, Meg's smile grew wider as she took in the young man's prone form.

"The great Sam Winchester," the female demon announced to her entourage.

A demon in a short, fat middle-aged man scoffed, "Father's sure knocked him down a peg or two."

The other demons cackled and Meg stepped forward, hands on her hips.

She stopped when she was right in front of Sam and tilted her head so she could look up into his face, "Are you awake?"

Sam barely opened his eyes as he was startled into consciousness. The wounds in his back burned as though they were on fire, still oozing blood.

"Meg?" Sam asked, his vision still very blurry.

"You got it," the female demon smiled.

"What do you want with me? Sam asked wearily, his voice almost nonexistent.

"Oh nothing," She said in a little girl voice, "I just wanted to know if you were enjoying your stay here at Casa Lucifer."

"Fuck you," Sam hissed, the bite of the remark lost on the demon.

"Are you comfortable?" Meg asked, mockingly.

Sam didn't even answer. He closed his eyes so the demon wouldn't see the tears that were beginning to well up in them.

Meg smiled and made a show of slowly walking around Sam, examining him as she went. She made one full circle before coming to a standstill behind the young man. Her company of demons approached- Sam Winchester was no threat to them- and watched with gleeful expressions.

Meg looked up at the still-open wounds in Sam's back and lifted one hand almost cautiously.

"You may be strong," Meg spoke to the young man. She laid her hand over one of the gashes and pressed down, smiling when her action caused Sam to cry out in pain and try to twist away from her, "But Lucifer is stronger."

Tears streamed down Sam's swollen cheeks and he could barely breathe through the fresh agony. He could hear the demons laughing at him and he suddenly felt very ashamed. He was weak; he wasn't as strong as he liked to believe. And his enemies knew it. It was only a matter of time before he broke and they won.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Meg gasped in false apology, "Did that hurt? How 'bout this?"

A scream tore itself from Sam's already battered throat and the fiends roared with laughter once again.

"Please," Sam begged; his voice barely audible, "Please… stop… please."

"You're asking the wrong person, Sam," Meg chastised and flicked blood from her hand.

He groaned, suddenly feeling light-headed and allowed consciousness to slip away, depriving the demons of their fun.

SPN

Dean stared numbly at the news station on the TV, not really watching but pretending to anyways- and not doing a convincing job of it- while he tried to keep his mind off of his brother… or at least what ghoulish torture Lucifer could have planned for him.

Dean had tried calling to Castiel, only to find the angel was ignoring him or didn't hear him. Whatever the reason for the angel's silence, Dean prayed that when the angel did appear, he'd have good news.

He looked up when Bobby stomped into the living room. The grizzled hunter stared at the younger man for a moment before shaking his head, "Yer gonna make yourself sick."

"I'm fine," Dean argued and turned off the television.

"Sure," Bobby commented, unconvinced.

"When's Cas gonna call? I mean, how hard is it to find a couple of demons?" Dean asked and Bobby frowned, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

"Maybe we jumped the gun on this one," He admitted, "Maybe old Lucy has cloaked his demons from prying eyes."

Dean shook his head, "Don't tell me that, Bobby. No way! He didn't do that!"

Bobby wanted to agree with the young man but the longer Castiel stayed away, the more it looked like his fears were coming true.

"What happened to 'you'll just have to make it up to him when we get him back'?" Dean asked, starting to become afraid that something was very wrong if Bobby, who'd always been so sure that they'd find Sam, was beginning to have doubts… or was at least voicing them.

Bobby just shook his head. He wanted to be wrong; he wanted Castiel to prove him wrong but until the angel showed up, he certainly wasn't holding his breath.

Dean lowered his head, accepting the fact that this time he might lose his brother for good. Three weeks had passed since Sam had been taken from River Pass and every day Dean felt like a little more of himself was being eaten away by guilt and regret and sorrow. He didn't know how much more he could take before he did something incredibly foolish to get Sam back. Dean had been thinking about consenting to Michael if he could make the archangel promise to free Sam from Lucifer- sure it wasn't the best plan and he was sure both Bobby and Sam would be pissed as hell about it but Dean didn't really care as long as he got to see his little brother again.

"I'm getting a beer," Dean stood and stretched, masking his thoughts from his old friend, "You want one?"

Bobby nodded slowly. He didn't know how much longer Dean could take this and he told himself he needed to be ready to lock and bolt the irrational young man in the Panic Room if push came to shove.

SPN

The basement was filled with the sounds of crunching mingled with cries of pain. Lucifer looked bored as he broke every bone in Sam Winchester's body. One by one.

"Pl-please st-stop," Sam begged pitifully.

"What's the magic word?" Lucifer asked knowingly.

Sam shook his head and then screamed as his hip fractured.

"Why do you still deny me?" The Devil asked, "You were made for me. You are mine, Sam Winchester."

Sam lowered his head, too weak to hold it up anymore.

"Am I boring you?" Lucifer wanted to know, "If I am, please let me know and we can do something else."

Sam peered at the fallen angel through a curtain of matted, dirty hair, unable to respond.

The Devil waved a hand in the young man's direction and Sam shivered as his broken bones were mended simultaneously.

Lucifer tilted his head, "Are you cold? Perhaps I can help."

Sam's eyes widened in horror as he felt the first tongues of fire began licking at his clothes.

"No," he whispered before he was engulfed, flames burning yet not destroying.

Sam's cries of pain rang out loud and long as he was immolated.

W

Sam lifted his head warily when he heard footsteps on the basement stairs. His heart began to pound frantically, his breathing becoming rapid with fear.

Ruby's pink hair shone dully in the light from the single bulb. She stepped lightly, with preternatural grace that Sam was all too familiar with.

"Sam," she said quietly, as though they were two lovers meeting for a secret rendezvous.

"What… do you want?" Sam's voice wheezed out of battered throat, reedy and faint as an old man's.

Ruby didn't answer immediately. Instead she stepped right up to the young man and offered up her wrist. She had slit the skin of one pale forearm so that crimson blood welled up in the wound.

"This will give you strength," She told her one-time lover and pawn.

Sam saw concern etched into the girl's features but there was cunning in her brown eyes. He turned his face away.

"Sam! I'm trying to help you!" Ruby hissed angrily.

"Fuck you! I'm not falling for your tricks again," Sam snapped back, his throat already starting to ache from speaking.

"I'm trying to save you from any more pain!" Ruby retorted and again offered up her wrist.

"I know… what you're trying… to… do," Sam argued, already losing his voice.

"Just let him in, Sam! Don't you see it's for the best?" Ruby entreated, her cheeks turning red with anger.

Sam shook his head and swallowed thickly. He had already allowed Ruby to toy with him once and he wasn't so naïve anymore. She didn't really care for him, she couldn't. All Ruby cared about was seeing Lucifer- her father- win.

"I know you think it was all a lie," Ruby began and Sam wished he was deaf so he wouldn't have to hear the bitch spew her filth, "But I did care about you… do care about you. I was there for you when Dean was gone… I didn't have to be but I wanted to be there. Even when your brother came back, I stayed; I looked out for you-"

"You kept me addicted to your poison!" Sam accused and Ruby flinched.

"Sam-" the demon tried again but was interrupted a second time.

"If you really cared about me you would have left me alone!" Sam exclaimed, tears forming in his eyes, "But you couldn't 'cause you only really care about yourself!"

Sam's chest heaved as he glared at the demon; Ruby looked shocked by the assault. Perhaps she didn't expect the young man to have so much fight left in him.

"Get out," Sam growled.

Ruby stared up at the young man and shook her head, "You should have taken my offer, Sam."

"I said get out!" Sam shouted, his voice cracking as he did so. Ruby turned her back to him and walked slowly toward the stairs. She flipped her host's pink hair over hers shoulder as she went, not looking back once.

SPN

Creak!

Dean's hand went instantly to the knife underneath his pillow and he turned over as he pulled the weapon out, squinting through the gloom to try and locate the intruder.

"Dean," the gravelly voice caused the young man's heart to leap into his throat.

"Cas," Dean reached out and turned on the bedside lamp. The angel was standing at the end of his bed, wearing his usual trench coat and blank expression.

"I found the demons."


	9. Chapter Nine

"De..." Sam slurred as his mind just started coming to the living world, his voice a cracked whisper as he called his older brother's name. His head pounded painfully from dehydration, the dredges of his torture still remaining in his mind, the dull pain still plaguing his body. But none of that mattered any longer as he stared at the familiar figure in front of him, fond awe coloring his soft hazel eyes. He couldn't believe it. Dean - Dean was here, finally here, standing in front of him, here to save him like he always did, always would.

"Sam." Dean's voice was strangely hard and cold. Sam didn't understand why he was so angry, so he tried to remember what he had done, but the intense headache was fogging his brain and making it hard to focus. He thought hard, and he could feel a vague memory far away, slipping out of his reach, his mind unable to grasp the indistinct images as they ran away from him.

But he chased after them, his eyebrows scrunching in deep thought at the internal battle. If there was one thing he learned best from his father, it was being stubborn and got you what you wanted no matter what happened.

And suddenly, it all rushed back to Sam every detail. The bright white light shining with such intensity that it hurt his eyes, glowing high to the ceiling in the quaking covenant, before swallowing up the whole room. There were terrible noises, horrifying shrieks ringing in his ears, high-pitched and loud, so loud.

Then Sam recalled Dean yelling at him, his angry and hurtful words weighing heavily on his heart.

And yet another memory cut through Sam's pained haze; his brother telling him to run, and himself refusing.

And then another memory- Dean asking him that why didn't he run from the demons.

But then, the worst image came to Sam's mind, the one of his brother's neck being twisted in an awkward angle in one swift motion, the echoing snap in the vacant and silent building, his body falling to the ground lifelessly.

Sam shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes.

"You're dead," He whispered sadly, hopelessly, his face crumpling. He shook his head again, staring at the cold, hard features of his big brother in the darkened room, the only light from the single naked bulb shone harshly down on the man in front of him. "You're dead." He repeated again, in that same broken tone as the tears dripped down his cheeks.

"Look what you have done," Dean whispered softly, his features turning sorrowful, a crease between his eyebrows. His neck started bending slowly to his left, further and further until there was a sickening snap, and the body part was at such an odd angle, Sam felt his gut squeeze painfully at the sight, bile rising to his mouth, but he pushed it down.

"You did this to me," Dean whispered angrily, his face turning hard and repulsed.

"No..." Sam shook his head, his eyes wet as his expression twisted. "Please..." He begged; his voice thick and cracked with emotion.

"How could you even live with yourself, you monster!" A feminine voice screamed, and Sam turned his sight to its owner, and nearly choked.

There stood Jessica, his beloved Jess, his sweet and beautiful girlfriend, with her stomach bleeding profusely from a long gash, blood staining her dress and rapidly pooling around her. Her face was pale and hateful as she stared angrily at him, and Sam released a light sob, seeing her look at him so disgustedly, like he was a murderer (maybe that's exactly what he was), it hurt.

"Sammy, baby," Another voice whispered, so pained and disappointed, and he turned his head to his mother, looking exactly the same as Jessica, except for her expression.

She was so hurt, that it made Sam's heart ache with her pain. She was so heartbroken, not angry and hateful, just so sad. The tears fell from her eyes, and he wanted so badly to wipe them away, to touch her, hold her, but she looked so fragile, just as frail and vulnerable glass, on the verge of breaking. She already was broken.

"Is this what I taught you?"

He snapped his head to the other side of the room, and found his father, looking even more displeased and angry than the rest of the people in the room.

"I should've buried you alive the day I saw your mother die on the ceiling, above your crib," John hissed, snarling angrily. "We had - a monster, growing up right under our noses, and we never even knew."

"You should've died, like we all did, before we all did. Our blood is on your hands!" He yelled, and Sam flinched violently, letting another strangled sob escape through his lips.

He felt something twist inside his abdomen as he watched his father's body slowly disfigure into something terribly unrecognizable, and it was all Sam could do not to start screaming in horror.

SPN

Dean stood in front of his bed, packing his items, everything he might need in this fight, probably his last battle if Lucifer decided to spread his molecules all over the Earth. He looked up from what he was doing, and stared at the empty bed on the further corner of the room, and realized that it was worth it. If all of this worked out, Sammy would be lying in that bed, snoring softly in his sleep in a few hours time. He would never tell his brother this, but he had barely got a good night's sleep without hearing his gentle rhythm of breathing, without his lullaby.

And if this didn't turn out successful, then at least he tried. At least he wouldn't have to live with the knowledge that his brother was in Satan's grasp, God know doing what to him.

"You ready?"

Dean didn't startle at the sudden voice, turning his head slightly towards Bobby, who was leaning against the doorframe.

Dean zipped his bag close, raising his chin up in determination.

"I'm ready."


	10. Chapter Ten

Lucifer tilted his head in curiosity as he watched Sam Winchester. The young man was crying and muttering nonsensically, his eyes darting around the room.

"He is hallucinating, father," Meg smirked as she came up behind the fallen angel, one hand on her hip.

The Devil's eyes never left the human's face.

"Looks like you're getting closer," Meg continued, "He's finally starting to break."

It had been nearly a month since she and Ruby had brought Sam to the farmhouse and Meg had to admit she hadn't thought the human would last as long as he had.

Sam may be a hunter and he may be strong but he was only human after all and humans could only take so much pain before they started to cave.

Meg grinned widely when Sam's head dropped to his chest, the boy too weak to hold it up any longer. She saw that his arms trembled visibly and sweat dripped from the bangs that obscured his eyes.

No, it wouldn't be long now.

SPN

Dean held his head high as he stepped out onto Bobby's porch, the veteran hunter at his side. Cas stood in the driveway, his gaze pinned on the rapidly setting sun.

"Take your time," Dean told the angel, "It's not like we're in any sort of a hurry or anything."

Bobby scowled at the younger man and swatted the back of Dean's head as Cas turned around to face the both of them.

"We must be careful, Dean," Castiel warned, "Although we will have the element of surprise, Lucifer is sly… we do not want him to kill Sam or worse once we arrive."

Dean wanted to say that Sam was already being tortured by the fallen angel so he wasn't sure what Cas' idea of worse was but he kept his mouth shut.

"Take this," the angel slid a hand into his beige trench coat and pulled out Ruby's knife, "You'll have need of it. There will not be time to exorcise the demons."

Dean and Bobby stared at the serrated blade. The oldest Winchester hadn't thought he would ever see it again. Dean recalled dropping it in the convent and hadn't thought to retrieve it while Lucifer was making his grand entrance.

"How did you find this? I thought it was lost," Dean asked, slightly chagrinned.

"I returned to the convent after Lucifer was free and found the knife," the angel answered simply.

"Well… uh, thanks," Dean took the weapon and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

"Can we git going now?" Bobby asked gruffly and Cas nodded, placing a hand each on the hunters' foreheads.

W

Dean blinked and staggered as his feet hit solid ground once again. He didn't think he'd ever get used to riding the Angel Express but he had to admit it sure beat driving.

As soon as his eyes adjusted to the near-darkness, Dean caught sight of what looked like Bill Gates' house- a mansion with a high stone wall surrounding it- and his mouth dropped open.

This was where Lucifer was holding Sam?

Dean turned to the angel with wide eyes, "Sam's in there?"

Cas shook his head, "No."

"Than why're we here?" Bobby asked, placing a restraining hand on Dean's shoulder because the younger man looked like he wanted to punch the angel.

"We are here, Robert," Cas began, ignoring Dean's livid expression, "Because the Colt is inside."

Dean spluttered and stared at the mansion once again.

"The Colt? As in, the Colt?"

Cas turned his blue eyes to Dean, "What other Colt would I be referring to?"

"Never mind," Bobby interrupted quickly, "Why's the Colt there? An' who has it?"

Dean was becoming inpatient. Cas hadn't mentioned that they'd be taking any side-trips and all he wanted was to get his brother back.

"A demon is in possession of the Colt," the angel answered.

"Oh, that's great!" Dean snapped, "Why do we even need the gun? We've got the knife; we should be good to go!"

Castiel looked at Dean as though he was the most naïve being in the universe.

"The Colt can kill anything, Dean, not just demons."

Dean paused, realizing what that meant.

"You think the Colt can kill Lucifer?"

The angel nodded, "The Devil would not allow you to get close enough to use a Seraph Blade and so the Colt is your only option if you wish to kill him."

Dean nodded. With the Colt, Dean could keep himself at a relatively safe distance and still put that son of a bitch down.

"Okay," Dean relented, "I see where you're going… but how do we get the Colt? Do you know where it is?"

"You and Robert will have to procure the Colt," Cas explained, "The mansion is covered in sigils warding against angels; I cannot enter but you two can."

Bobby sighed, "Well that's just peachy."

"How did a demon get the Colt?" Dean asked suddenly, ignoring the look Bobby gave him.

"When the thief, Bela Talbot, stole the Colt from you, she gave it to a demon named Crowley," Cas said, "the very demon that resides inside that mansion."

Bobby huffed, "That's all I need to know. Alright, get us inside so we can get the gun so we can get Sam."

"I will be waiting for you two out here," Cas told the hunters and transported them the short distance into the grounds of the mansion.

Dean pulled Ruby's knife from his pocket and held it at the ready. Bobby held his pistol loaded with iron rounds in his hand and nodded to the younger man. Silent as shadows, the hunters headed down the cobblestone driveway and towards the ornate front door.

SPN

"Sam," Lucifer spoke softly and the young man raised his head slightly.

Sam let out a frightened whimper when he saw the fallen angel through his matted bangs and attempted to shy away from the threat.

"I know you're in pain," Lucifer continued, speaking as though he wasn't the one who had preformed the torture in the first place, "I can make it all go away, Sam. I can stop the pain but first you have to say just one word… just one, tiny word."

"Nuh-No!" Sam cried as loudly as he could, his throat raw.

The fallen angel sighed and shook his head.

"I grow weary of this, Samuel," the Devil told him, "As I am sure you do. Why not end it?"

Sam didn't answer. He was struggling just to remain conscious much less have a conversation with Lucifer.

Why am I doing this? Sam thought. Dean's already dead, so what's the point?

The Devil smiled as if he could read the young man's thoughts.

"I do not wish to destroy the world," he said quietly, as if relaying a secret that was only for the two of them, "I wish to remake it… mould it in my image, the way it was meant to be!"

Sam chuckled despite the pain it caused, "And flame-broil everyone in the process."

The fallen angel tilted his head, "Are you saying that humans do not deserve it? Do you believe that the murderers and rapists and child molesters should not be punished for their sins against humanity and God Himself?"

"It's… It's not your decision," Sam insisted.

It was Lucifer's turn to laugh, "I am the King of Hell, Samuel! The Pit was created for such men as these!"

Sam sucked in a ragged breath. He didn't know why he was trying to justify the continuation of the human race to the fallen angel. The only person he truly cared about was already gone.

"Wh-what about all the innocents?" Sam asked and gagged harshly, blood dribbling down his chin.

"All humans are sinful," Lucifer answered, "Some more so than others but they have all done something to warrant their demise."

Sam didn't reply. He watched as the fallen angel smirked at him before letting his eyes slip closed and he drifted into unconsciousness, Lucifer's soft laughter ringing in his ears.

SPN

Dean tried not to struggle too much in the demon's grip. Beside him, Bobby cursed under his breath but likewise did not attempt to fight the demon who had a hold of hm.

They were here to get the Colt, not gank monsters.

The hunters were hustled down a door-lined hallway and shoved into the last room on the left which appeared to be some sort of office. There was a floor-to-ceiling window with a view of the gardens at the back of the mansion and a giant oaken desk in front of it. A ornate fireplace took up most of the other wall.

Dean tensed when a voice addressed them in a thick Cockney accent, "If I'd know we'd be having company, I would have put on a pot of tea."

The younger hunter looked up to see a man rise from a wing-backed chair in front of the fireplace. He was a couple of inches shorter than Dean and clothed entirely in black.

"Yer Crowley?" Bobby grumbled, glancing at Dean from the corner of his eye.

"The one and only," the demon smirked, "Now, I doubt you two have come here for a little friendly chat."

Bobby spoke before Dean could make a snarky comment, "Actually, we are."

Crowley lifted an eyebrow in interest, "Well, it's not every day that I have hunters asking to talk instead of trying to shove me back down to the Pit."

"Give us the Colt! We know you have it!" Dean spat, unable to control himself. He just wanted to get the gun and save his brother.

The man in black frowned slightly, as if confused by Dean's words.

"You mean that marvelous invention of one Samuel Colt?" the demon asked and Dean all but rolled his eyes.

"Do ya have it or don't ya?" Bobby asked, shooting a glare at Dean. They needed to show Crowley that they were on his side- for the most part- and all the boy was doing was making things harder than they needed to be.

"Oh, I have it," Crowley smirked, "You have your information right, old chap."

Dean gritted his teeth in frustration. He hated that this bastard was beating around the bush when they needed to save Sam!

"The only question is: why do you need it?"

Dean practically growled, "So we can shut your pie-hole!"

If Bobby's hands hadn't been pinned by a body-guard demon, he would have smacked the young man upside the head.

Before Crowley could tell his cronies to kill them, Bobby exclaimed, "We heard that the Colt can kill the Devil!"

Dean stared wide-eyed a Bobby in shock. Yeah, like telling that to a demon was going to help.

Bobby shrugged minutely and shot Dean an apologetic look.

To the hunters' surprised though, Crowley didn't give his men the go-ahead. He peered curiously at Dean and Bobby for a long moment before speaking.

"Alright," he told them, "I'll give you the gun."

Dean's mouth dropped open in shock, "That's it? You're just going to give it to us? No arguing? We're going to kill your king… your creator!"

Crowley grimaced, "I think I can handle these gents alone, thank you very much."

Dean rubbed absent-mindedly at his wrists when the demon holding him let go and the two possessed men left the office, closing the door tight after them. Although no longer in the room with them, Dean was sure they were just outside the door. Not that he was really worried about them, Crowley seemed like he could take on both him and Bobby with only little effort.

"What are you playing at?" Bobby asked the demon. Crowley didn't answer immediately; instead he walked over to a cabinet beside the monstrous desk and pulled a crystal decanter of amber liquid and a glass from the shelf. Bobby and Dean waited impatiently while the demon poured himself a drink.

"I am not playing at anything," Crowley told them after gulping down the alcohol, "I, like you, want my kind dead."

"But I thought you guys were all star-struck with him? He's supposed to be like the Beatles to your fan girls," Dean commented. Hearing that a demon hated Lucifer almost as much as he and Sam did was a little bit unnerving.

"I'm not a complete dolt," Crowley growled and poured himself another glass.

"An' how's that?" Bobby asked, crossing his arms over his chest, his finger never leaving the trigger of his gun though.

"Alright," Crowley glanced up at the hunters, "Everyone thinks the Devil's going to make this world ours. They think that he actually cares about them but that's all bollocks."

Dean waited expectantly. It was clear that they'd get the Colt only after Crowley had had his say.

"Lucifer doesn't really care about demons. To him we're nothing more than servants," Crowley explained.

"He isn't called the Great Deceiver for nothing," Crowley gave a raspy chuckle, "And we've been falling for it for centuries!"

Going serious again, Crowley pointed at Dean, "All we demons do is remind him of exactly why he rebelled. He thought humans were tainted and, well, he was right. Even you could see that… you got a taste of Hell, boy."

Dean's expression darkened at the mention of his tour and he took a step towards the demon, Ruby's knife clenched tightly in his fist.

Crowley ignored Dean; he wasn't a threat and continued speaking.

"I want you to kill the Devil before he kills us all," Crowley told the hunters, "I don't fancy being cannon-fodder."

"Alright, then give us the gun," Bobby prompted. He'd had about enough of Crowley's sob story.

The demon set his glass down and moved around to the desk, unlocking one of the drawers and pulled out the familiar old revolver.

Wisely, Crowley handed the weapon over to Bobby.

"I want you to take this to Lucifer and empty it into his face," Crowley told the older hunter as Bobby's fingers curled around the handle.

The demon turned back for his drink and sighed when he felt the muzzle of the Colt against the back of his head.

Dean sneered. So much for Crowley thinking he was so clever.

The oldest Winchester pulled back the hammer and squeezed the trigger.

Click.

Dean stared at the weapon in confusion for a moment before he heard Crowley chuckle.

"Oh, right," the demon said, still with his back to Dean, "You'll need bullets."

Dean lifted the Colt to pistol whip the demon anyway but Bobby caught his arm, "It ain't worth it."

The younger man glared daggers at his friend but nodded. He didn't have time to get into a pissing contest with a demon.

Crowley handed Bobby the remaining bullets, secure in their make-shift container- an old cigar box- and saluted the man.

With the Colt in their possession, all Dean wanted to do was get the hell away from Crowley and rescue his brother.

The demon walked past the two hunters and opened the door. His body-guards peered in curiously at them but Crowley waved them away.

Despite the fact that the black-clothed demon apparently wanted Lucifer dead as much as he did, Dean felt his muscles tense for an attack, Ruby's knife gripped ready in his hand.

The two hunters were not intercepted though, as they left Crowley's mansion and Dean actually chuckled as they stepped onto the wide cobblestone walkway.

"What's go you in such a cheery mood?" Bobby asked his friend, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Who'd imagine we'd get help killing the Devil from a demon?" Dean commented, a slight smile curving his lips.

Bobby, who had no answer, could only shrug and simply muttered, "Strange times, boy, strange times."

Both men halted in their progress when they heard the familiar flutter of wings and Castiel appeared in front of them, "Do you have the Colt?"

"Yup," Bobby answered and Dean showed the angel the weapon.

"Good," Cas praised emotionlessly, "We must make haste."

Before Dean could make a rude comment about the angel's manner of speaking, Cas placed his hands on the two hunters' foreheads and the three of them disappeared from the courtyard.

W

A dry, harsh wind whipped at Dean's jacket and hair as he stood in the middle of a field with Bobby and Cas, staring at the lonely-looking old farmhouse.

The eldest Winchester frowned at the sight of the deserted homestead.

"Something tells me that ain't no Little House On The Prairie," Bobby commented humourlessly and Dean nodded.

"Are you sure Sam's there?" he asked Cas. If this was another of the angel's detours…

"Yes Dean. I can sense the demons very strongly," the angel answered.

"How're we gonna do this? I doubt we can go in guns blazing," Bobby said, rubbing at his beard thoughtfully.

Castiel looked appreciatively at the old hunter, "That is what we should do… though not exactly in the same sense."

Dean stared at the angel.

"We cannot simply walk up to the door and ask Lucifer to hand Sam over," Cas said and Bobby raised an eyebrow.

"The house is not warded against angels-" Cas continued before he was interrupted.

"Makes sense," Dean growled impatiently.

"-Entering but it was hidden from view. Lucifer knew that his siblings would be searching for him," Cas finished as if the young man had not interjected.

"That's great," Bobby said, "But why's that important now?"

"I can transport us directly into the house, as close to Sam as possible," Cas actually smiled.

Dean liked that idea. He had been fretting over the thought that he might have to fight his way through hordes of demons to get to his brother.

"This does not make the task any easier, Dean," the angel warned, seeming to read Dean's thoughts, "Although we will most certainly surprise the enemy, they will surely rally quickly. And do not forget that it is not only demons we must defeat… Lucifer will not give his vessel up without a fight."

Dean lowered his gaze. Right, Lucifer. The hunter shuddered at the thought of the fallen angel.

"If you get a chance," Castiel spoke to Dean now, "Shoot him. Do not hesitate for anything."

"You don't have to tell me, Cas," Dean growled. He stared almost lovingly at the Colt in his hands. He had loaded it as soon as they arrived in the field and the weight of the weapon felt familiar and reassuring.

Dean had given Bobby Ruby's knife to go along with his own iron-loaded gun and with Cas's ability to destroy demons with a touch, the eldest Winchester felt they had a good chance of doing some serious damage.

Kicking ass and taking names, Dean thought to himself and turned expectantly to his angel friend.

"What are we waiting for? Let's get this party started!"

Bobby shook his head at the young man's remark but froze when he felt Cas's fingers press lightly on his brow and the familiar, slightly unpleasant sensation of speeding through time and space engulfed him.

SPN

Do it, a voice hissed in Sam's head. You know you should. Why keep doing this to yourself? You could stop all the pain right now.

"Nuh-no," Sam whimpered out loud and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Who you talking to, Sammy?" Meg's voice taunted but the young man didn't even open his eyes.

Go away, Sam thought desperately, knowing that the demon wouldn't leave.

"I knew you were stubborn but this is getting ridiculous, don't you think?" Meg commented and Sam flinched when she placed a hand on his leg.

"You can't win," the demon continued, "You know you can't. Why don't you just give up this charade already?"

Sam's eyes slid open ever so slightly.

"Are you afraid? Is that it?" Meg asked, "Are you afraid of being possessed?"

Sam didn't answer. He just wanted her to stop talking and leave him alone.

"Do you think it will be like when I possessed you? Hm? Do you remember that? Of course you do," the demon chuckled and twined a finger around her host's dark hair with her free hand.

"I'm sure my father won't make you watch," Meg said softly, "He'll probably just make you sleep and you won't even know what's happening."

Sam shivered. He recalled waking up in that random motel room, covered in blood, with no idea of where he was or what had happened. He remembered how confused he'd been. How frightened.

"Oh come on, Sam!" Meg snapped, "Why don't we cut the crap! Dean's dead and gone! You're all alone! You're here. So why not accept it."

"G-go to Hell," Sam whispered; his voice barely audible but Meg raised an eyebrow.

"Lucifer's not going to let you go, you know? Not for anything," she smirked.

"So, the way I see it," the demon continued, "You can say yes and at least have some sort of peace, or you can hang around here all day while my father thinks of new ways of making you talk."

Sam knew Meg was right. He knew that Lucifer wasn't going to leave him be, even if he never agreed to be his vessel. The fallen angel would probably continue to torture him just out of spite. Maybe he should just give in. At least if he said yes, he wouldn't be in pain anymore. He could just sleep.

What would Dean think? A voice asked Sam.

Dean's not here, Sam thought, he's dead.

A tear slipped down Sam cheek at the thought of his dead brother. Dean would be so disappointed in him.

"I d-don't kn-know what to d-do," Sam whimpered and heard Meg chuckle.

The demon patted Sam's leg before turning to leave, "Don't ask me, Sam. I'm kind of biased."

SPN

Lucifer ran a hand through his host's short blonde hair and frowned when a clump came loose. He hadn't expected his current vessel to start wearing down so quickly. It didn't matter, however, because Sam Winchester was going to give his consent. The young man would not last much longer.

Glancing at the mirror above the kitchen sink, the fallen angel's blue eyes traced the row of dime-sized burns at his hairline and along the left side of his jaw.

He turned at the sound of footsteps and saw Meg close the basement door, shaking her head as she did so.

"What is it, child?" he asked softly.

Meg sighed, "I never thought he'd be so stubborn."

Lucifer stepped up to the demon and cupped her face in his hands, "Do not fret. You said yourself he is already coming undone. Very soon I will have my true vessel."

Meg smiled up at her father. She was incredibly surprised at Sam's determination. Surprised and annoyed. This wasn't how things should be happening. Sam was Lucifer's vessel, he had a role to play, a destiny and he was fucking things up by denying his fate.

"Perhaps I should speak to him," Lucifer said stepped away from Meg.

The demon sighed. Why couldn't Sam just suck it up and give in already? She was tired of waiting, tired of hanging out in this crappy farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. She hated seeing her father's current vessel deteriorate before her eyes. Although it surely didn't hurt the fallen angel per se, he was not as strong as he could be- not as strong as if he had his proper vessel.

SPN

Dean's eyes darted around the small country kitchen, ready for an attack. He snarled at the teenage girl with hot pink hair who approached from the doorway- a smirk on her face- and flung Bobby to one side with one twitch of her hand.

"Cas! Go find Sam!" Dean nearly shouted at the angel standing right beside him and in a flutter of wings the angel disappeared.

"Where's my brother, you bitch?" Dean but Ruby didn't answer.

"Did your pet angel bring you back?" she asked, glancing at the older hunter as Bobby began to pick himself up from the kitchen floor.

"You should know by now that I don't stay dead that easily," Dean commented and Ruby grinned.

"Pity," she said, "You should have seen the look on your brother's face when I killed you. He blubbered like a baby."

"Dean! Kill her!" Bobby grunted as he stood shakily.

"I'd like to see you try out that knife again," Ruby said eagerly, "See if your aim's better this time."

Dean smirked, "It is."

He lifted the Colt and squeezed the trigger. Ruby staggered back, a stunned look on her face as the bullet hit her in the forehead, just over her left eye. There was a crackle and lightning coursed over the demon as bright bluish light spilled from her eyes and mouth. She slumped to the floor and the lightning abruptly stopped as the demon died.

Dean stalked over to Bobby and grabbed his arm.

"Why'd you stand there chatting with her?" Bobby growled angrily but Dean ignored him.

The door to what Dean guessed was the basement opened slowly- the hunter lifted the Colt in case it was another enemy- and sighed in relief when he saw Cas standing at the top of the stairs.

"Sam's down there?" Dean asked cautiously and the angel nodded.

The eldest Winchester pushed his friend out of the way in his haste to reach his brother. The basement was dank and dark. Dean shivered and squinted in the dim light.

"Sam," Dean gasped at the sight of his brother.

Sam was hanging from one of the support beams, his wrists in shackles, and his feet barely brushing the earthen floor.

"Sammy," Dean moved forward slowly and reached out a hand but drew back, afraid that his touch might hurt his brother. Dean gulped; Sam was covered in dried and congealing blood.

Bobby was speechless. Sam looked dead but of course the old hunter didn't say that out loud.

"Cas, we have to get him down!" Dean cried, his voice high-pitched with emotion.

The angel nodded and approached the injured young man. Dean looked at him expectantly but Cas shook his head.

"Let me do it," the angel said, "He'll be too heavy for you."

Dean wrapped his arms around himself and nodded once. He bit his lip as he watched. Cas stepped up to Sam and closed his eyes for a moment. Dean glanced up and saw the shackles unlock from his brother's wrists and Sam slumped bonelessly over Cas' shoulder. Using the fireman's carry, Cas settled Sam gently on the floor and Dean rushed to his side.

Sam's eyes opened slightly and his brother felt his heart break at the fear he saw there.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean soothed, taking one of his brother's hands in his own- trying to ignore the raw wounds around his brother's wrists- and continued to comfort him.

"D'n?" Sam lifted his head slightly- too weak to do much else- but Dean shushed him, stomach clenching at the blood that trickled from the corner of his brother's mouth.

"Don't try and talk," Dean told him, "We'll get you back home real soon and Cas will patch you up."

"I highly doubt that," a voice caused Dean to jump and Sam flinched visibly.

Whipping around, Dean saw a man standing at the bottom of the stairs. He had sandy blond hair and blue eyes. As he walked closer to the small group, Dean saw that he had what looked like burns or blisters on his face.

"Lucifer," Cas stated without emotion.

The fallen angel smiled, "It's been too long, Castiel."

"You are not taking Sam Winchester," the angel nearly growled, shocking Dean.

"Are you going to stop me, brother?" the Devil asked with a smirk. Even if he wasn't as strong in this vessel, he power was far superior to Castiel's.

The angel didn't even get to answer when the sound of a gun going off startled everyone in the room. Lucifer didn't stumble back as Ruby had but he glanced down at the fresh bullet wound in his chest. Bobby had the iron-loaded gun pointed at the Devil. He knew it wouldn't kill him but it sure as hell stopped the son of a bitch.

Dean squeezed off two rounds from the Colt and Lucifer fell back against the stone wall. He slid down, his legs crumpled beneath him, motionless.

"C'mon Cas! Get us out of here now!" Dean hissed at his friend and tucked the Colt into his jacket pocket, grabbing hold of Sam's hand again.

The fight had done nothing to ease the younger man's trauma and he trembled in fear, tears slipping down his face.

Dean wanted to say something to comfort his brother but Cas had a job to do. The angel placed one hand on Bobby's brow and then reached out to where Dean's fingers intertwined with Sam's, making sure he had physical contact with both boys he transported all three to Sioux Falls.

SPN

Meg smirked as she saw Ruby's body lying on the kitchen floor.

"Serves you right," she commented as she walked past the pink-haired girl and toward the open basement door.

The demon expected to find Lucifer fuming over losing his vessel but she stopped short when she saw him lying against the wall.

"Father!" Meg gasped and ran to his body. Crouching down, Meg lifted his head carefully.

Was he dead? He couldn't be dead. Not now, not after all the work it had taken to get him here.

Meg gave a strangled cry when she was flung away, landing heavily in the dirt on the other side of the basement.

Lucifer sat up and caught sight of the demon picking herself up from the floor.

"Where are the others?" he asked, brushing his clothes off.

Meg couldn't help but cringe at the sight of the fallen angel. The burns along his hairline had burst and yellowish pus was dribbling down his forehead. The skin had split across one cheek and although it didn't bleed, the bone was visible beneath. A great hunk of hair was missing from the side of his head. Lucifer appeared to notice none of this though. He walked forward.

"Where are the others?" Lucifer repeated, his voice holding a hard edge.

"They're… they're dead," Meg squeaked out, "That angel killed them."

When the fallen angel didn't respond, the demon's eyebrows furrowed, "Father… we failed; Sam Winchester escaped-"

Meg stopped mid-sentence when Lucifer sent her a glare.

"We did nothing," he said in a deadly whisper, "You failed. Ruby and the others failed me."

Meg took a step backwards nervously, "I'm sorry, Father. It will not happen again."

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, "I hope that you do not prove to be as weak as they were, Meg."

Meg shook her head frantically, "I won't. I promise."

The Devil smiled and even to the demon it was terrifying. She gulped and tried to gather her thoughts, preparing herself to ask her next question.

"I mean no disrespect, Father," Meg began carefully, wondering if she could evacuate her host body fast enough if she needed to, "But how are we going to get Sam Winchester back? His brother and that angel will be watching him like hawks now."

Lucifer shook his head, "I have a feeling that Samuel will come looking for us. We must be patient though; these things take time."

Meg raised an eyebrow. She didn't think the hunter would actively go looking to be possessed by the fallen angel- especially since he had already displayed just how stubborn he could be- but she knew better to question her father.

"Come child," Lucifer held out a hand to her, "We no longer have any need of this place."

Meg dutifully took the fallen angel's offered hand and smiled. If her father was so willing to wait a little bit longer to procure his true vessel than perhaps this was his plan all along. Although Meg wished he would tell her what he had in mind, she trusted the Devil's judgment and would obey him. If Lucifer though Sam would eventually come to him, all she had to do was wait for that day with a big grin on her face.

She only hoped that she'd get to see the look on Dean's face when his brother said the big yes.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Dean landed with a bone-jarring thud in Bobby's den. Sam took the brunt of the impact, his teeth rattling audibly and curled in on his side in obvious pain.

"Shit," Dean muttered under his breath, ignoring his own physical discomfort at the sudden arrival and crouched protectively over his brother's prone form.

Bobby groaned unhappily and stood, hovering over both Winchesters while attempting to regain his bearings.

Sam trembled uncontrollably. Dean reached out and took his brother's hand, frowning at how pale and clammy his brother's skin was.

He's in shock, Dean realized and he began to panic when blood trickled from the corner of Sam's mouth and down his chin.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, not sure why the angel was not there, "Help him!"

The angel came into Dean's line of sight and crouched down. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his hand shook slightly as he reached out to the injured young man.

Sam flinched when Cas pressed his fingers against his temple, as if he expect the angel to hurt him, and then stilled when the celestial being's healing power flowed through him.

Dean glanced down at his brother and smiled gratefully; the blood had vanished and the wounds had healed. Sam blinked owlishly like a man waking up from a long sleep.

Sitting up on his elbows, Sam stared warily at his brother; not the expression Dean was expecting.

"Sammy-" Dean began but his brother snapped at him.

"Don't call me Sammy!" he nearly shouted and scooted away from Dean.

"Sam, son," Bobby didn't move from his stop but called out imploringly to the younger man, "It's alright. You're safe."

Sam shook his head, tears in his green eyes, "I'm nuh-not falling for your tricks so you can just stop! St-stop!"

"It's really me, Sammy," Dean stood but Sam only backed away even more. His movement was impeded by the couch so he sidled along the piece of furniture until he was at the edge and then curled into the space between the side of the sofa and the wall.

"Dean's dead! I saw him die!" Sam cried and squeezed his eyes shut.

"I'm not dead, Sam! Zach brought me back!" Dean nearly yelled and looked around for Cas in his frustration.

The angel had disappeared and Dean swore.

"I'm not sa-saying it so you can just for-forget it!" Sam said but he sounded more weary than angry.

"Son, this ain't one of Lucifer's tricks," Bobby said gently, hoping to calm down the young man.

"Yeah, why would he make you think you were back here?" Dean asked frantically. He knew to expect some psychological trauma after rescuing his brother but he couldn't handle this.

Sam narrowed his eyes. Lucifer was taunting him, he knew; showing him what he could never have again because of his continued refusal to comply.

"Fuck you! I don't have to answer you!" Sam snarled and Dean actually took a step back, stunned at the ferocity in his brother.

Sam curled in on himself and began to cry. He just wanted this to end. He didn't care if he woke up in that chilly farmhouse basement; he couldn't look at his brother and Bobby and know that he would never see the real ones again.

Dean looked helplessly at Bobby. The older man put a calloused hand on Dean's shoulder and shook his head.

"You look like you could use a drink," Bobby said and Dean looked at his friend in disbelief.

"Give 'im some space, Dean," the veteran hunter suggested, "If you pressure Sam you'll only make it worse."

Dean shoved Bobby's hand off his shoulder, "I'll drink once I know Sam's okay."

Instead of following his friend's advice, Dean approached his brother and crouched down in front of him. Sam was hemmed-in by his brother and for a moment Dean thought his sibling was going to attack him but Sam didn't. Sam froze and stared at him like a wounded animal in a trap, waiting for whatever was to come next.

Dean reached out and Sam flinched but the older brother didn't stop. He wrapped his arms around his brother and pulled him close.

Sam remained rigid in his brother's arms for a long moment before finally going limp. Dean wasn't sure if his brother actually believed he was who he said he was or if Sam was just too exhausted to continue fighting. Although Cas had healed Sam's injuries, Dean had seen the dark circles under his brother's bloodshot eyes and wondered when the young man had slept last.

Dean startled when his brother began to tremble in his arms, his muffled sobs breaking the older Winchester's heart.

"Hey, it's okay Sam," Dean soothed but Sam shook his head, his cheek against Dean's shoulder.

"No, it's not," Sam whispered sadly and Dean felt a lump for in his throat.

"Why?" Dean asked. Sam pushed himself out of Dean's grasp and wrapped his arms around his middle as though preventing himself from falling apart.

"I know you're nuh-not the real De-Dean," Sam muttered, eyes downcast.

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, trying to rein in his own emotions, "I am real, Sam. It's really me. Cas and Bobby and I, we saved you… we rescued you."

Sam just shook his head, "Dean's in H-Hell and it's all my fau-fault."

"Sammy," Dean tried again but frowned when his brother flinched at the name, "You've gotta believe me."

"Leave me alone, please," Sam begged and Dean backed off.

Standing, Dean didn't immediately give his brother space, worried that in his terror, Sam might try and flee Bobby's house but Sam only curled in on himself again, his back to the den as he pressed himself into the corner created by the couch and the wall.

The eldest Winchester stepped away and cast Bobby a pleading look.

The veteran hunter shook his head and gestured to Dean to follow him to the kitchen.

Dean took a seat at the table and watched numbly as Bobby pulled down a half-bottle of Jim Beam and two shot glasses.

Dean drank the alcohol when Bobby poured it for him, relishing the feel of the bourbon as it burned down his throat.

"Where's Cas when we need him?" he asked rhetorically and pushed his shot glass closer to Bobby, indicating that he wanted more.

"Dean," Bobby obliged the young man but knew he had to keep an eye on the eldest Winchester's consumption, "We both knew that Sam wasn't gonna come out of this clean."

Dean nodded and swallowed the second shot, "He doesn't think we're real. He doesn't think I'm real."

Bobby raised an eyebrow, "Well, we didn't give the boy much time to adjust to that fact that yer not dead and we'd come to rescue him."

Dean sucked in a breath that was more of a sob, "What did that bastard do to him?"

Bobby took his baseball cap off and ran his fingers through his thinning hair, "I dunno. Maybe Sam will tell us when he's ready. For now, I suggest we keep an' eye on him. He's a smart kid, he'll realize that we ain't gonna hurt him on his own."

Dean nodded. Bobby was right. Sam had just had a major shock and he needed time to process it. Dean was sure he'd react the same if their positions had been reversed.

He just hated the idea of his brother being scared of him. Sam should never be frightened of his older brother.

Bobby stood abruptly, startling Dean from his thoughts. The older hunter gathered up the bottle and shot glasses.

"I don't know about you but I'm starvin'," Bobby said in a casual manner as he put the glasses in the sink and the bottle of bourbon back in the cupboard, "And I'm sure yer brother could eat a horse."

Dean smiled a little. A peace offering of food would help Sam warm to the idea that this wasn't just some delusion or trick of Lucifer's.

Bobby gave the eldest Winchester a knowing wink and pulled out a box of Lipton chicken noodle soup.

"Why don't you start us some grilled cheese sandwiches while I make this up?" Bobby asked and Dean nodded, grateful to have something to do instead of sitting at the kitchen table, drinking too much alcohol for his own good.

W

Dean set the grilled cheese sandwich and bowl of soup on the coffee table in front of Sam's curled up frame, his brother's green eyes remaining fixed on the floor. The sight was unnerving to Dean as well as saddening, but he forced himself to focus on much more important matters at hand, like the fact that Sammy probably hadn't eaten much in the past few weeks during his time as Lucifer's captive.

That thought still made Dean shudder.

He knelt across from his baby brother who was scrunched up in the fetal position on the couch, hazel orbs staring quietly into mossy green eyes; eyes that used to be so expressive once, but wet now completely impassive and vacant Every fibre in the older brother's being wanted to remove that look from Sam's face; wanted to do something, anything, to make his brother look back into his own eyes and smile, showing those deep, loveable dimples of his, and call him 'Dean'.

But there was nothing Dean could do, nothing that he knew of, other than wait patiently, for his brother to come around and realize everything on his own; realize that everything he wasn't believing in right now, was all real; that Dean was real, that Bobby was real, that he was no longer in that basement, no longer with Lucifer, Meg and Ruby.

And as badly as Dean desired to make that process quicker, he knew he couldn't do anything about it. He felt so helpless, trapped, with this hollow darkness weighing on the pit of his stomach, churning his gut sickeningly.

But what he could do was take care of his brother. He could make sure Sam ate and slept, if nothing else. Dean doubted that, especially after all that he must have gone through- and Sammy's current state was evidence enough that he wouldn't be okay- not for a long time. And maybe sometimes it would become overwhelming for Sam and he'd feel trapped, and he'd be wary of what was reality and what wasn't. But that was okay, because Dean would be there for him during all of those times. He'd be his anchor, something to hold on to when everything became too tough for him.

"C'mon, Sammy," Dean said softly, pushing the plate closer to the edge of the coffee table, nearer to his brother. "You need to get your strength up. You almost look like a skeleton."

Other than a small shake of his head, Dean received no verbal response.

Depressing silence filled the living room before the older Winchester's voice penetrated through it. "Sammy, you need to eat something. Please." He whispered quietly, his voice gentle and sad. The unveiled concern could easily be heard, but Dean wasn't worried about a possible 'chick-flick' moment. Sam needed to know that he cared, that he wasn't Lucifer, that he wouldn't hurt him.

As was the case before, he received no response. This time, not even a small nod. Just complete silence.

Dean sighed heavily, standing up from where he was kneeling on the carpet. He walked towards the kitchen, leaving the food tray sitting on the table in the hopes that maybe Sam will eat once he was alone.

"How's he doing?" Bobby asked as soon as he saw his surrogate oldest enter the kitchen.

"Not good," Dean answered, and sighed deeply as he plopped down on the chair, running a hand through his blonde chopped hair as he leaned back. "He's not eating. He's not talking. He's not doing anything except sitting and staring and . . . " He trailed off, swallowing as he closed his hazel eyes. "And I'm scared." He whispered.

"Bobby, I'm scared." He repeated, tears welling up in his eyes.

"He's a strong kid, Dean, he's gonna be alright. He always bounces back."

"But what if this time's different?" Dean questioned as his face crumpled helplessly, tears streaming down his cheeks. "What if this time, he doesn't?"

Bobby's heart crumbled at the sight of tears on Dean's face and at the despair in his broken voice. Dean was not one to cry easily and for him to do so was a clear indication of how much he was hurting.

"Just give him some time, kid. He'll come around." Bobby reassured gently, hoping that he was right.

W

An entire week elapsed, so fast that they barely noticed. Both Dean and Bobby decided it would be best to leave the youngest Winchester to his own devices, in the hopes that he'll realize the truth and begin to trust the reality that surrounded him. Besides leaving food and drink and clean clothes out for Sam, the two older men did not engage him, hoping that if they continually posed no threat, treated him with a benign indifference, that he would realize that they were not hallucinations or shadows conjured up by Lucifer or Sam's own traumatized mind. It hurt Dean to blatantly ignore his brother but he knew that if he pushed, if he tried to force Sam into believing he was real, his brother would only retreat further away from him.

W

The entire house was shadowed by the dark night; tiny specks of illuminating stars painting the black sky.

Dean was just walking down to the kitchen to grab a glass of water when he heard it.

A tiny whimper, in the voice that was all too familiar, even to his still-sleep-addled mind. And the haze immediately cleared away at the sound and all thoughts of his urgent thirst disappeared as he hastily headed towards the room his brother was currently occupying. His steps stuttered in hesitance as he reached the doorway, uncertain if this would be the right thing to do. Would he scare his brother even more by going in there?

But then a gasping sob snapped him straight into action; and he didn't even bother to give any further attention to such thoughts as he rushed inside the room.

His run slowed to a walk as he neared the couch, silently watching his brother.

Another whimper escaped from his younger brother's lips, his curled up body shivering under the blankets as he was enthralled by cruel nightmares. Sam's head thrashed violently from left to right, his long hair flopping all over his tear-streaked face as he sobbed at the horror in his dreams.

Dean crouched down beside him on the floor, placing a calloused hand lightly on his brother's shoulder. "Sammy?"

The young man let out a cry of fear ; a sound that would haunt the elder brother's memories forever.

"Sammy?" Dean called again, his voice slightly louder as he shook his sibling's shoulder.

But he didn't hear Dean, apparently, as he continued to struggle against the monster in his head.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled frantically, shaking him harder. "Sammy, wake up! It's just a dream!"

"No...pl-please..." He whimpered softly.

Dean's heart crumbled at the plea, his chest throbbing at the sight of his younger sibling.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat and, without really thinking, sat down on the edge of the couch. He grabbed his brother's thin shoulders and pulled him straight into his arms, his brother's face buried into his shoulder.

"Shh, it's okay. It's just a dream, Sammy... It's just a dream." He chanted softly into his ear.

He felt a slight jerk against his chest; and he knew his brother was awake now. And just as soon, he felt Sam grow completely still in his embrace, as though he was trying to figure out what his next move should be. For a moment, Dean thought his brother would shove him away; the thought that he scared him even more than Sam's nightmare. But instead, he felt a warm weight wrap around his back.

Dean smiled, gripping his brother even tighter.

"You're real?" Sam whispered softly.

"Yeah, Sammy," Dean said, just as quietly, "It's really me."

Dean could almost hear the gears turning in his brother's head as Sam grew silent once more but that was okay. Sam wasn't fighting him and that was good. Dean kept quiet and allowed Sam to sort things out on his own.

"L-Lucifer would n-never…" Sam mumbled against Dean's shoulder, "Even if its not him… if you were a vision… y-you'd never… never do this…"

Dean frowned as Sam's voice became thick and he realized that Sam was starting to cry.

What had Lucifer made him see?

Before he could stop himself, the question was flew out of Dean's mouth and he cringed, hoping his brother wouldn't withdraw again.

"What did I do?"

Sam sucked in a deep breath but didn't say anything for a long moment.

Good going Winchester, Dean chastised himself for his stupidity, just when you were getting somewhere you had to open your big mouth.

"Y-you were d-dead," Sam answered, his voice wavering, "I'm s-sorry… I sh-should have protected you… I kb-know it was m-my fault R-Ruby killed you…"

Dean's heart dropped down to his stomach.

"No, Sam," he almost snarled, "It wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

Sam shook his head agains Dean's shoulder, "I eh-should have ran when you told me too. I should have ii-killed her back at St. M-Mary's…"

Gritting his teeth, Dean held his brother at arm's length, "Sam. Look at me."

Reluctantly, Sam raised his hurt green eyes up to Dean's hazel ones, "I don't know what you saw or what Lucifer told you but I don't blame you for my death. Okay? If you want to blame someone, blame Ruby."

Sam's eyes narrowed, "Did Zach really b-bring you back?"

Dean smiled slightly, "Yeah. Not my first choice but, hey, I'm not complaining."

Sam winced in sympathy at the idea of Dean waking up to Zachariah's ugly face and fell back against his brother's chest.

"I'm so tired," he mumbled.

"I know you are, Sammy," Dean said, "Why don't you close your eyes?"

"…I'm scared," Sam admitted.

"If you have a nightmare I'll be right here, okay?" Dean assured him, "I'll stay here all night if you want me to."

"It's not that…" Sam whispered.

"What is it?" Dean frowned, his nerves returning.

"I'm afraid that this is a dream and I'll wake up and Lucifer will be here," Sam answered fearfully, "He'll hurt me if I don't say yes."

Grabbing his brother's arms, Dean pushed Sam away from him a little too forcibly.

His brother's green eyes widened in fear but Dean ignored that, "Sam, you didn't… you'd never say yes to that bastard, would you?"

Although Dean was only afraid for his brother, his question sounded more angry than concerned.

Sam's face crumpled, "Y-you were dead… They'd never let me go… Lucifer kept hurting me… You were gone…"

Dean didn't know how to respond. He wondered just how close Sam had come to letting the Devil in. The thought made him sick to his stomach.

God damn it! Sam had almost given in! He'd almost played right into the angels' plans.

What would you have done if your positions were reversed? Hmmm? Would you have been able to hold out? Would you have lasted longer than Sam? I think not.

Dean's eyes welled with tears, suddenly ashamed of himself for being angry at his brother.

If he had been captured by Michael and tortured, Dean was sure he would have given in. His history was against him. Sure, he might be able to withstand it for a little while but just like in Hell, he'd cave.

But Sam, he may have come close but by God he hadn't actually given that son of a bitch consent. Sam had been held as Lucifer's prisoner- and tortured- for nearly a month and had refused him the entire time.

Dean was ashamed of how low of an opinion he had of Sam.

"Sam," Dean said and put his hands on either side of his brother's face, raising his head so that his sibling was looking at him, "Sammy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

Sam avoided his brother's gaze, "I know I'm not as strong as you-"

"Shut up," Dean growled and his brother looked startled, "You don't get to do that. You don't get to call yourself weak."

Sam opened his mouth to protest but Dean shook his head, "You didn't give in, Sammy. You didn't give those flying monkeys what they wanted."

"I fucked up though," Sam continued as if Dean hadn't spoken, "I released Lucifer… I got you killed… I almost said yes…"

Dean shook his head again, "None of that matters. You're here. Now. Safe with me and Bobby. Sam, you're my little brother and no matter how many mistakes you make nothing will change that. I was being an idiot. I know that now. I should be blaming the angels for stringing us along this entire time, not you. If you hadn't killed Lilith… I don't know… some bad shit would have gone down… but forget about that. Lucifer's out of the box… so what? So we find a way to put him back. You and me. Together."

Sam blinked up at Dean, "Now I know this is real. Lucifer would never say anything like that."

Dean smiled and hugged his brother again.

This wasn't over. Far from it. But as long as he had Sammy by his side, Dean was ready for anything the Apocalypse could throw at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Fanfic title comes from a Shinedown song.


End file.
